


Walking Towards Infinity

by AnotherDayInHistory



Category: The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, romantic feelings before divorce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 68,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6102616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherDayInHistory/pseuds/AnotherDayInHistory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Gwen and Blake discover what's real.</p><p>Title Changed from The Twelve Step Process</p><p>The beginning notes of Chapter 14 detail my new uploading schedule.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Initial Attraction

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know I have lots of story requests and i’m going to try to get to them, I promise, but this just came to me. There’s been a lot of speculation about how close Gwen and Blake were in Season 7 and how they developed from friends to lovers, so this is my long ass take on that trope. There won’t be any infidelity in this story, so if that’s what trips your trigger probably not what you want to be reading. There will be wishing, though, and attraction, so if that bothers you move on please. Also, this story might feature Miranda and Gavin being not-so-nice. I’m trying not to write them as caricatures, I promise, but I just think I need to illustrate how their marriages fell apart and why they weren’t suited for each other; a lot of that will involve the couples bringing out the worst in each other. So, please don’t slam me for Miranda bashing, because that’s not my goal here at all. Also, folks, this is fiction, just FYI lol. Just like when Hollywood Life writes anything, none of the things I talk about EVER happened.

He doesn’t expect it when he meets her. They’ve had three female judges on the show so far, and since Christina wants to take a little time off it doesn’t surprise him that the producers have brought on someone else new. Christina and him had an interesting relationship; he didn’t like her ego but got along with her just because he found something to like in her and no one else seemed to get along with her (especially Adam; Adam matched her ego for ego and the fact that he was a bigger star than she was now kind of bothered her, a fact that Adam never ceased to rub in her face like the five year old he sometimes was. Blake had told him to cut it out but Adam was a little bit petulant sometimes, and this was one of those times). He liked how feisty she was sometimes and thought she was a very talented vocalist; he’d just accepted the fact that he was going to roll his eyes when the rumor mill got around that she made three times as much as him, Adam, and Pharrell and that she demanded a bigger trailer with fancier stuff than all of them. He didn’t need that stuff anyways, he was being paid the same as he was when the show started and even though the producers had offered him salary raises he’d turned them down in favor of negotiating a deal for more creative control over how the show was run and some guaranteed donations to charity. Although he was never going to say no to money (because he liked being able to have as many trucks as he wanted and houses everywhere he liked to stay and not having to worry about making ends meet ever), he had enough for right now, and the show at this point was just fun. He meant it when he said that he wasn’t quitting the show until Adam did; he’d made a best friend and a brother during these last years (and someone who didn’t mind how touchy he was or the fact that sometimes he was a little too emotional about things and got overly invested in his favorite contestants), and he wasn’t quitting that for anyone.

 

So, when Gwen Stefani joins the show, Blake just thanks god it’s not Shakira (because as much as he liked her as a person he did not understand half of what came out of her mouth sometimes; even though she didn’t mean to she made him feel dumb and redneck; with her four syllable words and her better grasp of the English language than he had), and prays that Gwen was nice. He has a rousing suspicion that she’ll be a diva just like Adam and Christina and his heart sinks a little at that, but he resolves himself to get along with her just like he got along with pretty much everyone else. When they come to the first production meeting midway through Season 6, he expects four inch high heels and packed on makeup; expects her to demand to be treated like a queen and throw how successful she is in everyone’s faces. He expects her to have a trailer twice the size of his and her own personal water attendants or some crazy shit like that. He sits down at the meeting table with his pen and notebook, at 9 a.m. on a Wednesday morning, scrolling through his phone and sighing, feeling Adam’s knee brush against his, and he’s expecting Gwen to come in like a diva.

 

He’s thrown for a loop immediately though. Because when she comes in, she’s in high top converse and some crazy plaid pants with more colors on it than he’s ever seen on an article of clothing, in a tight black long sleeve shirt with a beanie thrown over long blonde hair. The makeup is packed on, sure, but instead of looking overdone it looks like it enhances her features. What he can’t get his mind off (or his eyes, if he’s being honest, and hell it’s been so long since he’s felt that little skip skip skip of his heart) is her red lips, pouty and full and looking like the lipstick always lived there. He’s still hesitant though despite his initial physical attraction (because that can never go anywhere and he’s married despite the fact that sometimes when he’s alone he wishes he wasn’t), but he smiles softly and stands up to shake her hand. She smiles back, a large beam, and he feels his heart stutter again, and sticks out her hand to shakes his back. Only, the edge of her nails (long, red things that he normally would have hated but on her it seems to work) catch on the sleeve of his shirt, and it pulls at the strings of it a little before the sharp tips scratch the back of his hand. He hisses a little, and she gasps, sticking one of her hands over her mouth and jumping back.

 

“ Omigod i’m, like, so sorry!” She exclaims, and before he can think about it she’s grabbing his hand in both of hers and running her fingers over the scratch that’s bleeding a little bit (it’s shallow and only an inch or so long but she looks as if she’d shot him in the knees). “ Shit I can’t believe I did that!” She keeps babbling, pressing down a little on the back of his hand. “ Fuck I’m so sorry!” Her eyes widened again and she blushed a deep red to match her lipstick. “ Oh great and no i’ve gone and said shit and fuck! That’s great Gwen, just great, start swearing like a sailor the minute you meet someone,” The last part is mumbled to herself, but Blake can’t help but let out a full belly laugh, throwing his head back. He’s still laughing when he looks back down at her, and now on top of the blush there’s also bewilderment and shock, but also the beginnings of a smile, like his laugh is contagious. Without looking away from him, she sucks her thumb into her mouth and then presses it over his scratch, pressing down hard and stopping the little bit of blood flow. He’s gaping at her now, a little widemouthed, and their eyes can’t seem to stay away from one another. 

 

“ It’s…” He finds, now to his embarrassment, that he has to clear his throat, getting rid of the gravel that seems to have infused itself in his voice even though he hasn’t performed in too long, “ It’s really not that bad,” He says finally, quietly, motioning to his hand. She flushes again, still pressing her fingertip to his scratch while the other hand traces over her lips in an unconscious gesture (he can’t help that his eyes go there and follow the movement for a few seconds before he forces them away). She shrugs a little, and the rest of the fingers on her hand run over the back of his ever so slightly, and he finds he has to catch his breath.

 

“ Can’t hurt,” She says simply, and he shrugs. They’d probably stay like that for the next twenty minutes, too, if Adam hadn’t cleared his throat, looking at both of them with eyes that are half concerned and half reproachful.

 

“ Well….hi guys.” He waves a little, and Gwen quickly pulls her hand away, flushing. Blake stuffs his hands into his pockets a millisecond before Gwen does, and she flushes too, fidgeting. “ Nice to see you again Gwen,” Adam says in a careful, measured tone. Gwen nods and smiles, but it’s a small kind of fake one, and her eyes still are rushing over to his before they leave again.

 

“ You too Adam,” She says, and Adam motions for her to come to the table. The moment is broken, but Blake can’t help but stay where he is for a few seconds, staring after her. He doesn’t know what makes him do it (it’s probably the devil that does it; it’s probably the fact that he feels his blood singing a little with a burn that he hasn’t felt in too long), but he find himself grabbing his notebook, pen and phone from where he’s sitting next to Adam and moving two seats down to sit next to Gwen instead. He ignores the huff and meaningful look from Adam from down the row, because the way Gwen smiles at him even as she’s still blushing makes it worth it. 

 

Pharell comes in then, and Gwen runs to him with a squeal, throwing her arms around his neck. Pharell hugs her back like a sister, and kisses her cheek as Gwen talks a mile a minute. Blake knows this, because he’s watching them surreptitiously as he pretends to scroll through his phone. He can’t help but smile at Gwen’s beaming smile, laugh under his breath when Gwen laughs, and trail his eyes up and down her body. 

 

His phone buzzes while he’s pretending to scroll through it and he jumps a little in his seat, huffing out a breath and reading his text. 

 

From: Adam

To: Blake

Blake. No.

 

Blake sighs and looks over at his friend, who’s glaring at him slightly with his arms crossed. He still looks concerned though, so Blake gives him a half smile before he types back.

 

From: Blake

To: Adam

I’m not.

 

Blake sees Adam read the text and narrow his eyes, still looking worried but relaxing ever so slightly. Even so, Adam picks up his own papers and moves to Blake’s other side, nudging his elbow with Blake’s and grinning when Blake nudges back. Pretty soon, Blake is doodling dirty pictures in the margins of Adam’s notebook and Adam is writing colorful swear words in block letters in Blake’s, and it’s back to old times, the tension of earlier forgotten. Gwen’s still in Blake’s mind though, from her smile to her laugh, and she stays in the back of it like a low static hum the entire time he’s goofing around with Adam.

 

Before long, the meeting starts, and Blake’s half paying attention (because after seven seasons he’s heard all of this before and Mark does love to drone on and on about meaningless things that everyone knows) half daydreaming about the potential of writing a song (even though he’s tried and tried lately but nothing’s been working, he got as far as _roses are red, violets are blue, fuck this song, and fuck me too_ in his latest effort before he’d determined both that vodka and songwriting do not a good mix make and that he’d better give up). Suddenly, he feels this urgent need to hear that crystalline tinkle of Gwen’s laugh (and he’s not going to examine this, because he promised Adam he wouldn’t and he’s promising himself too he won’t and he won’t he just needs to this one time), so he leans over to her where she’s diligently scribbling in her notebook with a black gel pen, and he turns the notebook to the next page before scrawling on it with his own pen. 

 

 **What did the pirate say when the captain asked him how old he was?** Gwen furrows her brow and smiles a little, and shrugs at him a little (Mark’s totally oblivious, still droning on an on, but Adam’s not, and he feels the judgement practically coming off of him in droves). He scribbles in her notebook again. **Ay matey :).** She laughs then after she mouths the words to herself, loud and boisterous, and Mark stops talking as Gwen buries her head in her folded arms as her shoulders shake with laughter. He’s beaming at her and laughing too (because he’s the king of corny jokes and he’s glad someone else finds them as funny as he does because Miranda would just roll her eyes or let out a little pity laugh before moving on). 

 

“ Something you two wanna share with the class?” Mark says questioningly, his arms crossed. Both Blake and Gwen shake their heads through their laughter, and Mark taps his foot while he waits for the laughter to die down. Blake ignores the kick from Adam under the table, and grins and bites his lip when she leans over to him to scribble in his notebook.

 

 _Ur kind of awesome._ She blushes and then focuses solely on what Mark is saying, turning her notebook to a new page and scribbling away, totally paying attention. He’s not, though, because he’s looking at the side of her head and trying to fight down the fluttering in his chest, feeling his heart sing a little and his face redden. He bites his lip again, looking at her, before he gets another swift kick from Adam and finally looks over to him. Adam’s narrowing his eyes and shaking his head at Blake, jaw set, and Blake deflates a little, smile fading. He nods once, twice, before picking up his pen and tuning in again to what Mark says. 

 

When he can’t stop thinking about her that night in his house, drinking whisky and sitting on his couch in the otherwise empty living room, he FaceTimes Miranda from where she is in Tuskaloosa, She picks up, smiling slightly at seeing him, and he beams at her. “Hiya Darlin!” He says enthusiastically. She frowns then, looking around with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. 

 

“ Please don’t call me that in front of people; i’m in public, Blake,” She says, reprimanding, and he deflates a little, his smile fading into a fake one (that he doesn’t think she can recognize). 

 

“ Sorry,” He says, and she nods once, “ I just was wonderin’ what you were up to,” She goes on and on about her tour and about music, and he listens, he really does, but he’s mostly looking at her face and wanting to kiss away this conflicted feeling inside of him on her lips. He suddenly feels the need to make her laugh (he wants to her it, it’s deep and bracing and a little bit annoying but he loves it. He wants to see her face light up).  “Hey, where did Noah keep his bees?” He asks her, and she furrows her brow at him with a frown, being interrupted mid-rant about something or other with the sound stage at her last show. “ In the ark hives!” He says, smiling a little at her, waiting for her laugh. Instead of laughing though, she just rolls her eyes, huffing out an irritated breath. 

 

“ You seriously interrupted me for that dumbass joke?” She says sharply, and then there’s a thump behind her and she’s talking to someone, “ You’re better off stickin’ ta jokes about how drunk ya are and boobs, Blake,” She says, before she tells him she has to go and hangs up before he can even say that he loves her. His smile is totally gone now, and he finds that his eyes are a little wet. He sets his jaw, throwing his phone a little roughly on the leather of the couch before he stands up and goes over to the whisky bottle, refilling his glass almost to the brim. He swallows the lump in his throat and then swallows down a lot of the whisky. He gets drunk that way, alternating swallows of whisky with watching some rehash of a football game on his television, before stumbling to bed without changing or brushing his teeth. He’ll wake up with a hell of a hangover in the morning, but for now the pain is almost gone and so is the guilt, and he dreams about a crystalline laugh and a red lipsticked mouth kissing over the back of his hand. 

 


	2. Self Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Gwen does something she hasn't in ten years, and realizes laughter is the best medicine. Otherwise known as the one where the author reveals her love of corny jokes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor mention of a sort of eating disorder here folks, nothing serious or severe, mind you, just Gwen with some body issues. So, if that is traumatizing for you, best to skip the chapter!

Gwen Stefani has never been one to call herself a country music fan. She loved Emmylou Harris, sure, because she’d grown up on her, and she also loved Ricky Skaggs and Dolly Parton, but she didn’t think of them as country, more as relics of her childhood. When she thought of country, she thought of dirty rednecks and singing about their dog dying, about steel guitars and getting drunk every night and then driving in a truck.

She watched the Voice a little the first few seasons, knew of Blake from that, but to her he seemed like the typical country boy. Crass, a little bit rude, loved to drink and party, didn’t want to settle down or quit flirting, everything she thought a country boy was. Meeting him at that production meeting, however, was a totally different story. She’d been rushed out the door because Zuma was throwing up (she’d been a hairsbreadth away from postponing but Mindy said she had it under control and Gwen had to trust her, even though there was something about the younger woman that bothered her), and had barely had time to do her makeup, slapping on some lipstick and a little eyeliner in the car parking lot of the studio. When he’d seen her, though, his face had gotten this look that she’d never seen before, this look of semi-shock and semi-arousal, this wow you’re really really attractive to me and I wasn’t expecting it. She’d pushed it away and then made an ass of herself, and found herself falling deeper when it turned out that he had one of the most wonderful personalities she’d ever seen. He’d made her laugh within ten minutes of meeting her, a real belly laugh, and he’d looked at her so surprised when she’d told him he was kind of awesome. He’d beamed and blushed into the back of his neck, his hat covering what she thought were thick curls (and oh hell she’d always had a weakness for curls; Gavin so loved to gel his into ridiculousness but it looked like Blake didn’t unless he had to), and his face ducking down into the table. He’d been so much more bashful, kind, and funny than she could have ever imagined, and she’d had to visibly push down the stirrings of attraction she’d felt after spending some time with him. 

Inexplicably, though, when she goes home that night and tucks her children in, trying to get ahold of Gavin but being unable to, she starts to YouTube his songs. She’s never really heard him sing (having only casually watched the show every once in awhile when it was on), but she found herself gaping at her computer screen with her headphones in. Because he’s good. He’s not just a good vocalist, he brings this emotion and drive to his songs, this magnetism that makes you want to watch, and she finds goosebumps trailing up her arms as she watches him sing in the rain drenched. She goes through probably fifteen of his songs that night, staying up way past the time in which she would usually go to sleep in favor of watching him sing about his eyes being the only thing he doesn’t want to take off of his wife (she’s surprised to find she’s crying after the song, because he’s so incredibly devoted to who he’s singing about, and she wishes oh she wishes that someone, anyone would be that devoted to her).

The next morning, she wakes up and decides that as good as he is, that spark she must have felt for him was an aberration, and they were going to be friends. She didn’t have enough friends, and she was looking forward to make another one. 

 

They do the photoshoots to promote the new season, and dress Gwen up in a tight white corset top with black shorts, fishnets, and Louboutins. She feels a little ridiculous being so dressed when her co-judges are all covered neck to hands, but she realizes it’s worth it when Blake literally drops his water bottle (with the cap off) on the ground when he sees her, water spilling everywhere on the floor and some getting on his shoes (he’d sworn and flushed a deep red and had fumbled down to the ground for it; taking some napkins Adam thrust at him and cleaning up the mess without looking up. Adam had helped him up and whispered in his ear for a tense few seconds, and Blake had shaken his head, setting his jaw). They put her next to Blake the whole time, and Gwen realizes that she doesn’t have to fake her smile this time when Blake whispers a corny joke to her right before the camera rolls, and she slightly leans her head back against him as she laughs brightly. He smiles too, a large, beaming one, and the photos turn out great. She goes home that night, tucks her kids in, argues with Gavin (but what else is new), and sits in her bathtub and cries. She doesn’t know what she’s crying about, exactly, but it might have something to do with the fact that she feels like her marriage is hopeless sometimes and yet she wants to make it work, might have something to do with the fact that she’s never felt that spark before with anyone that she felt during the photoshoot and neither of them can do anything about it because they’re married, might be because she’d felt more beautiful in that afternoon when he looked at her than she’d ever felt in her seventeen years of marriage. She has her cry, pulls herself together, and puts feelings of his curls and his smile and his laugh out of her head.

By the time the blind auditions roll around, she has herself under control, she does. She smiles warmly at Blake when she sees him and gives him a very brief hug like she gives the rest of the boys, and she tries hard not to blush when he tells her that she looks great (even with sweatpants and too little makeup on; wardrobe hasn’t worked on her yet). They go through the blind auditions, and Gwen gives him as hard of a time as she gives everyone else, dancing gleefully in front of him when she gets a contestant over him. They end up having very similar taste in voices, and during the lunch break Gwen can’t help but go over to him in the communal area where everyone is eating. 

“ Hey,” She says, sitting down at the table across from him with her small salad. It’s kind of a pitiful one, all wilted lettuce and half warm tomatoes, and she’s starving and she knows that it won’t nearly fill her up, but she’d gained some baby weight she needed to get off. Gavin had even been making comments about it, about the fact that she couldn’t fit as well into some of her tight tight clothing anymore (it had almost made her cry but she realized he was right and skipped dinner that night, opting for an hour on the treadmill instead. His face when she’d done it had been so pleased that she thought it was worth it). 

Blake smiles at her from where he’s sipping on a Coke and looking at his phone, putting his phone down so he could focus on her. “ Hi,” He said softly, fiddling with the straw in his glass of Coke. She puts salt on her salad (Blake raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything) and picks up her fork, motioning to his glass.

“So, you got vodka in there or what?” She teases, and he laughs heartily, throwing his head back.  
“ Gotta keep up the buzz, you know? Part of what makes me so likable on TV,” He teases back, sipping meaningfully at his glass. She giggles, shaking her head a little, and fiddles with her salad (because maybe if she doesn’t eat anything at all it would be even better than eating a salad, and the feeling in her stomach will eventually go away, she knows it will).

“ So you really drink as much as everyone says?” She teases, totally lighthearted as she sips her sparkling water, and his smile fades. His face shutters for a second, and she furrows her brow, because she think she might have hit a nerve. He fidgets with his hands, shaking his head.

“ Naw, if I drank as much as everyone said I wouldn’t be able to stand up half the time,” He murmured quietly, but the words were meaning filled. She simply looked at him, tilting her head.

“ So then why do you act like you’re drunk all the time?” She asks curiously, quietly. He shrugs, fiddling with the straw in his glass.

“ Gotta keep the public happy, right? ‘Sides I’m funnier three sheets to the wind than not, and thats part of the reason people watch the show right?” He says quietly, his voice slightly teasing. She can’t help it then, she puts her hand on his arm briefly (just like she would for any other friend, just like it). 

“ You’re funny sober too you know,” She said softly, turning back to her lunch the next second. In her peripheral vision, she saw him gape at her for a second before flushing deeply and biting his lip, looking down at his food for a second and clearing his throat. They sat there for a moment in silence, Gwen fiddling with her salad and Blake with his napkin. She decides to lighten the mood a little. 

“ By the way I listened to some of your music,” Gwen said, and Blake’s head shot up to meet hers, and he tilted his head, blushing a little.

“ Yeah?” He said, slightly biting the inside of his lip. She pokes him with her plastic fork gently on his arm.

“ You might just make a country music fan outta me yet,” She teases him, and he grins wildly, laughing under his breath. His smile is a beam, and she sees dimples and soft scruff (oh hell). He ducks his head, his neck a bright red. 

“Well, your music is hella good if I do say so,” Blake says teasingly. She laughs loudly, her shoulders shaking as she tosses down her fork. She shakes her head at him as she gets her laughter under control. They sat in comfortable silence then, both digesting the fact (well at least Gwen was) that they liked the other’s biggest efforts. 

“ Meanwhile, that’s ‘bout the saddest lunch I ever saw,” Blake’s voice broke through her silence, and she turned to look at him. He was motioning with his hand to her lunch, and she shrugged nonchalantly.

“ Not that hungry,” She said on reflex, taking another drink of her water. Just then (because her body betrayed her too often these days) her stomach let out an audible rumble, and she blushed deeply, covering her face with her hands. He raised his eyebrows, looking at her plate and at her alternately. 

He does something then that surprises her. He stands up, returning in a second with another plate. He cuts his yet untouched burger in half and pushes it and some of his french fries to the other plate before pushing it over to her. “Here, can’t have ya starvin’ and dancin’,” He teases softly, his eyes sparkling. Her eyes are too wide to giggle, and she looks at him.

“ But that’s your food,” She says intelligibly, babbling as she feels her face turn red. He shrugs, picking up his half.

“ Don’t mean I can’t share,” He says simply, taking a bite out of one of his french fries. “ ‘Sides you probably haven’t had a french fry in like two years right?” His voice is teasing, but she unexpectedly feels her eyes fill a little, and she has to blink off to the side for a few seconds to get herself together. Once she swallows past the lump in her throat, she trusts herself to speak.

“ More like ten,” she says quietly, and he looks sharply up at her (because he’d been teasing, she could tell, but she was serious). She makes a half hearted attempt to push the food back towards him then, an attempt which he blocks with his hand. “ Blake, that’s so so sweet, but like totally not good for my baby weight,” She says lightly. His eyebrows arch and he makes a face.

“ What baby weight?” He asks, his voice disbelieving. She blushes, shaking her head at him with a little fond smile (because she’s keeping this light even though she kind of still wants to cry a little and doesn’t know why). 

“ You just can’t see it, but oh my gosh it’s there,” She says teasingly. He arches an eyebrow, visibly looking her up and down as much as he can while she’s sitting (she tries not to shiver and almost succeeds). He seems to struggle with what to say for a few moments before he decisively pushes the plate back towards her, creating a sort of roadblock with his arm so she can’t push it back.

“ Don’t think one night will kill you. ‘Sides you’re hungry, and us Southern boys never let a girl go hungry,” He says softly. She stares at him for a few minutes before she picks up a french fry and bites into it. She feels a little rebellious (because my god it’s delicious; she’d forgotten how good they were) when she finishes half of the shared portion of the food, finally feeling her stomach quiet down for the first time in days. She feels overly full and a little sleepy, but it’s worth it for the way he teasingly offers her a sip of his Coke and looks surprised when she takes it, for the way he goes to pick up her iced tea for her when they place their regular Starbucks order, for the way he flushes when she teases the audience about her and Blake being tight later in the show, for the way that he looks genuinely stricken when she climbs up on top of the chair like Adam to cheer on a contestant. 

She goes home that night and endures countless passive aggressive comments about her weight from Gavin when she deigns to have a couple of Oreos out of the snack cabinet that she keeps for her kids. She goes running outside, runs until she can barely breathe and she’s covered in sweat, and stands in the Hollywood Hills looking out at the scenery, feeling herself near tears again. 

Inexplicably, then, she gets the urge to text Blake, and so she does.

To: Blake  
From: Gwen

so im not as good at this as u, but y don't they play poker in the jungle?  
The response comes a few seconds later (she figured it would; she doesn’t know him that well but the man already seems glued to his phone at all times. She figures its partially the fact that his wife is away and partially his social media addiction). 

From: Blake  
To: Gwen

I dunno. Why? :P

She grins as she types back.

From: Gwen  
To: Blake

2 many cheetahs :P :P. 

She laughs herself then when she gets a text back from him.

From: Blake  
To: Gwen

HAHAHA. That was good! :P. Hope you don’t mind if I use it myself some day? By the way, how many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh? Tentickles! :D.

She stands in the Hills, covered in sweat, no longer crying but laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, please? The comment puppy will like you!


	3. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of Blake's brother's death comes too soon every year. Except for this time, Gwen's there with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, have some angst.

It comes too soon every year. That’s an odd thing to say, because it comes the same day every year. But somehow, even though it comes the same day, even though he expects it to come every year during the last day of blind audition filming, he’s never ready for it. 

 

When Blake really thinks about it, he doesn’t know why he’s so emotionally affected about his brother’s death even to this day. Blake was fourteen when he died, old enough to have his brother as a role model, old enough for them to be closer than any brothers ever were, but its been so long and the hurt should have lessened by now. Never being the type to psychoanalyze too much, he doesn’t know why he still cries like a baby when he thinks about it, doesn’t know why he can’t make it through the song he and Miranda wrote for his brother without bawling. But, he does, and so he usually makes a point to be far far away from people on the day (because his family doesn’t even like to think about it, whereas normally they like to come together for things on this day every year they like to lick their wounds in private). The last years, he’s had Miranda with him in his house in Tish, and he’s gotten rip roaring drunk and practically blacked out in her arms without ever speaking about his brother or his death, and she’d let him fall asleep there (she normally wasn’t a cuddler, his Miranda, she liked her space and so for him to be able to curl up with his arms around her was unusual; he figured it was her way of indulging him on this one day). The last three years, he’s gotten texts from Adam on the day and a soft warm hug when he gets back to Los Angeles, and Adam usually treated him with unusual kindness for a couple of days before he goes back to permanently yanking Blake’s chain. No one else knows on The Voice, not even the producers all they know is that Blake seems to always be gone on a specific date each year, and the filming works around it. 

 

But this year, things are different. Because of a sound system malfunction where they couldn’t figure out what the hell was wrong, they’d had to push back filming of the blind auditions. Instead of two days back to back, there was one day and then a long break, where everyone waited for a call every morning for the go ahead but never got one. Because Blake’s unlucky like that, the call comes the day he’s flying out to Tish while he’s packing his bag. He hears Mark say that they’re going to film tomorrow, that they finally fixed the sound system and they really needed to get going if they wanted to keep up their schedule. Blake’s speechless for a few seconds as his heart sinks, because of course, of course this would happen on this day of all days. He’s having a beyond shitty week, and this is the icing on the cake. He tries to persuade Mark to let them film in a few days, says something about needing to be in Oklahoma for something private, but Mark is implacable. And, like the idiot Blake is, he never wrote this into the contract that he made with the producers, so he ends up having to cave when Mark goes on one of his stubborn streaks and holds Blake’s job over him. 

 

He practically throws his cell phone to the bed, sitting on it and running his hands roughly over his face and through his hair, messing it up. He sighs, feeling his heart sink, and he texts Miranda. 

 

 

To: Wife

From: Blake

 

Hey so just found out that cant come to Tish. Voice battles filming tomorrow now. This shit sucks. 

 

He gets a message a few minutes back from Miranda, who he knows is already in Oklahoma waiting for him. 

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Miranda**

 

**K.**

 

Blake furrows his brow, because he thought she would offer to come to LA. That’s what he would have done, thats what he has done on bad days for her, he’s flown to wherever she is and helped her through it. She’s helped him through it in the past. She’s gotta know that’s what he wants, she knows him better than that.

 

**To: Wife**

**From: Blake**

 

**I know you hate LA Ran.**

 

He gives her another hint, hoping she’ll catch on. Maybe she’s busy, maybe she’s distracted with something and she isn’t really reading his texts that carefully. Yes, that’s it, he thinks. He decides to be direct if she doesn’t get this hint (but he really hopes she does). His phone buzzes.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Miranda**

 

**Yup.**

 

Blake sighs, deep and weary. He’s gonna have to spell it out for her.

 

**To: Wife**

**From: Blake**

 

 **Look its just for a day.. could you…. you could come in the afternoon and ill be outta there by eight, we could go have drinks somewhere. I….** Blake hesitates then over the keys, because he hate hate hates being vulnerable, but he needs  her. And she’s not terribly emotionally observant, so he’s going to have to spell it out. **I need you here, please Ran.**

 

He waits several long minutes for a text back and doesn’t get anything, sitting on the bed of his rented LA house with his hat on and his boots and his bag half packed. Finally, ten minutes after he sends the text, his phone finally buzzes in his clenched hand, and he reads the message with a sinking heart.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Miranda**

 

**Ain’t no way I comin’ to LA. Too much work to do here and I leave tomorrow night for Austin.**

 

His mouth gapes open a little as he reads, but before he can respond there’s another text.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Miranda**

 

**Its about time you quit this show, dont ya think? I’m tired of only seeing you a few times a year.**

 

Inexplicably and unexpectedly, he feels his eyes fill with tears that he has to swallow down with all the effort he can manage. He ignores the message. There’s a lump in his throat the size of California, and even as he swallows a few tears make their way down his face. He’s beginning to wonder whether she really gets him. She doesn’t get (hell the’ve had fight after fight about it) that he _loves_ this show, that he loves being a mentor to people the way Trace was to him, that he loves being surrounded by people with hopeful optimism for the future. She doesn’t get that he’s not leaving until both him and Adam get tired of it (partly because he knew that if he did quit him and Adam would likely drift apart and his friend meant too much to him for that), and that he’s even starting to slightly like LA (only a little, he still refuses to drive in the damned town). And now, he’s alone. Again.

 

He makes up for the fact that he won’t be getting drunk tomorrow with getting so that night, hugging himself slightly only when he’s seriously inebriated like its someone’s arms around him. He thinks about calling Adam, but he knows Behati is there for the first time in a few months, and he’s not going to do that to him, take him away from his wife when they haven’t seen each other in forever and are still in that honeymoon phase. 

 

For reasons he can’t explain then, probably because he’s drunk, he texts Gwen (they text off an on and have about the show ever since the second day of auditions got pushed; it was safe talk, small talk, but it made him feel good nonetheless. He ignores the fact that she’s third on his messages, right after Miranda and Adam. 

 

 

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

 **sht tht we hfta film tmrw.** In his state, he doesn’t realize that the words are riddled with typos (whereas usually he never has the best grammar but he knows how to spell, for gods sake). The message doesn’t come for another hour, and he’s worked himself even further down the hole then, deciding to stop before he blacks out but drowning in his sadness now.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**yea… I've got 2 very disappointed kids that we wont be going to Disneyland tomorrow. this has been a fun evening :(.**

 

Before he can get the mental faculties to respond, though, she sends him another text.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Hey tho…. your text looked weird. Everything ok?**

 

He hesitates before he texts back, his fingers fumbling clumsily over the touchscreen. He feels his eyes fill again, and a couple more tears fall down his face. 

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Drnk.**

 

The text comes back a few moments later.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Oh. Well ill let u go then.**

 

The words aren’t reproachful but are, because Blake can sense she doesn’t approve, somehow. Maybe she’s judging him a little, maybe she thinks its unprofessional, but the thought of her judging him even a little hurts his heart. He wants her to like him with a desperation he hasn’t felt before, wants to make her laugh and wants to be the reason she smiles. He finds himself for the first time in forever, wanting to pour his battered old heart out to someone, and he tries to crush it. But, his filter is flooded by whisky and sorrow, and he can’t help but text her.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Hd a brother. Died 24 yrs ago tmrw, usually go to OK bt show filming.**

 

The text comes back a second later.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Omigod Blake im so sorry. R u ok?**

 

Blake huffs out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head at the phone. Before he can type, though, a text comes back.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Sorry. Stupid question. R u going to be ok tomorrow?**

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Have 2b wont i?**

 

He puts the phone down, then, curling up on his bed on top of the covers with his clothes still on. He holds his phone close to his chest, and sleeps the night away, plagued by dreams of being in a crowded auditorium singing and no one can hear him.

 

The next morning, he’s hungover but not horribly so, but the sheer melancholy that fills his soul is even worse than usual. He goes through the motions of getting up, getting ready, filling a large thermos with black coffee (only, he doesn’t have the creamer he likes, and he hates the taste of it black, so he ends up holding it more than actually drinking it). He leaves for the studio a half hour early, unable to sit at his house any longer. His fingers clench and unclench in his lap as the car drives, and every slight movement out of the corner out of his eye makes him flinch (because it only takes a split second for a car to crash) and he’s nauseous and sweating by the time they make it to the studio. He walks quickly across the parking lot, determined to hide in his trailer until the last possible moment. His face is down, his hat covering his eyes, and he has his coffee thermos still full in one hand, his other in his pocket reaching for his keys.

 

When he looks to his trailer door, though, he sees Gwen standing there, with full makeup and hair done but in tomboy style jeans and a ratty white t-shirt with a pink bra showing through it. She’s such a dichotomy, but she’s holding a Starbucks cup in one hand, and she smiles softly with concerned eyes when he sees him. 

 

“Hi,” She says quietly, looking down to try to see his face. He gapes at her, his face wide, and he looks self consciously down at himself. He has wrinkled clothing on and huge blue bags under his eyes, and his hair is flying everywhere under his hat. He feels so inadequate in that moment and yet totally glad she’s here. 

 

“ Hi.” He says back, his voice hoarse (because he hasn’t talked to anyone this morning). She moves aside then so he can unlock the door, and follows him inside, where he sits his coffee thermos down on one of the tables and stuffs both hands in his pockets. Gwen thrusts the Starbucks cup at him.

 

“ Brought you your favorite hazelnut latte,” She says simply, her face all concerned sadness. His shoulders slouch a little in wonder, because how does she know that that’s his favorite? He takes it from her with a grateful look, sipping at it and being unable to help closing his eyes briefly in pleasure. He clears his throat.

 

“ Thanks,” He says, holding the coffee tightly in one hand. They look at each other meaningfully, then, and he fidgets, his boots tapping against the carpet. There’s a silence in those moments, and its not uncomfortable but it is meaningful. Gwen is looking at him like she wants to say something, like she wants to nurture him, but doesn’t feel like she knows him well enough. He, in turn, is trying not to fall apart already (because if he was in Oklahoma right now he’d be riding his horses until he couldn’t would spend the day drinking out by his private lake). They stand like that, far apart yet locking gazes, and Blake takes four long sips of his coffee, letting the  caffeine start to wake him up.

 

Suddenly, and without warning, Gwen is in his space and taking the coffee out of his unresisting hands. He looks at her, his brow furrowed.

 

“We gonna dance?” He teases softly, unable to help it. She laughs a little under her breath and shakes her head. still close to him but not touching him.

 

“ Nope,” She says, looking up at him. She has to crane her neck far to do so, and he can’t help but look down at her. Her eyes are so beautiful, chocolate brown with flecks of gold. “ I’m going to hug you,” She announces, and then does it, her arms wrapping tight as they could around his back. His arms freeze in midair over her body, and he’s board stiff. He doesn’t remember the last time a woman hugged him (he hadn’t seen Miranda in three months and she’d never been one for hugging; even when they were having sex she kept herself as far away from him as possible; she never liked to spoon afterwards). Gwen’s tucking her face into his shoulder, murmuring into his worn blue plaid shirt. “I know you’re not ok, and it’s ok,” She says softly, and there’s something about her words that break him, a little. Miranda likes him strong as iron, just like she is most of the time, and he can’t remember the last time he was allowed to be a little vulnerable. She rests her chin on his shoulder, her hands moving soothingly up and down his back, “ You can let go, you know,” She says, and that’s it. Suddenly, he goes from being completely dry eyed to muffling his sobs against her hair, the tears cascading down his face as his whole body shakes. He cries for everything, cries like he hasn’t cried since his father died, cries for how lonely he feels and how much he misses his brother.

 

He’s being totally unattractive and overdramatic, he knows, and he’s probably soaking her hair and the side of her neck that he’s craned down to bury his face into, and he’s going to have red eyes and a puffy face and a sniffly nose for the rest of the day, not to mention the headache he always gets when he cries for real, but he can’t bring himself to care. For the first time in a long time, he feels like he can finally let go. “ Oh god,” He murmurs through his sobs, and she makes a little shushing sound under her breath, stroking her hands up and down his back. He nuzzles into her neck, taking comfort where he can, and inhales. She smells like freshly cut summer grass and the ground right after it rains (two of his favorite smells), like cinnamon in hot apple cider and the hazelnuts from the coffee she got him.

 

It’s a few minutes before he can pull himself together to speak for real, and he has to inhale and exhale a few broken breaths. He stays hugging her though, and she's still murmuring (but now he can hear it, little _its okays_ and _cry if you need tos_ ). He sniffles into her neck and then lifts his head to do the same in her hair, his hands squeezing over her back. 

 

Before long, though, he can’t justify holding on anymore (even though he wants to, even though he wants to take a nap to sleep off his hangover in her arms with his face back against the crook of her neck, even though he wants to cry more and watch something mindless on television with her (Sound of Music has always been his guilty pleasure; he loves it). So, with a sigh into her hair (her hair smells a little like a fresh margarita, lime and citrus, and its such a dichotomy with the scent of her neck that he can’t help but smile, a little), he breaks away, swiping at his eyes with his arms. He turns slightly away from her towards the small window in his trailer, hanging his head and swiping at his eyes. He feels awful and wonderful at the same time, a little sick from crying but more weightless for being able to let go. 

 

A Kleenex is thrust under his face by a well manicured hand, and he gives Gwen a grateful look as he swipes at his eyes with it, blowing his nose loudly. He crumples it and throws it in the trash, going to wash his hands in the small sink in the kitchenette. He splashes cold water on his face, and pats it dry, finally turning to Gwen. Gwen is standing there in the same position she’s been in the whole time, only this time she’s giving him an indulgent look with her hands in her pockets, the whole side of her neck and the top of her shirt damp. He grimaces a little at it and hands her the towel he used to wipe his face, motioning to her neck. She nods, and takes it to pat at her neck.

 

“ I…” Blake begins, but finds he he has to clear his throat. She makes a shush sound, and he shuts up, looking at her and trying to communicate everything ( _thank you thank you thank you)_ through his eyes. She seems to get it somehow (because they’re so in sync even though they haven't known each other long), because she nods, picking up his coffee and handing it to him with a soft, understanding smile. He sips, and she stands there, looking off to the side dabbing at her neck. 

 

“What’s your plan for the night?” She asks then, her voice quiet and gentle. He sighs shakily and shrugs, stuffing the hand not holding his coffee in his pocket. His shoulders slouch, because he honestly doesn’t know. They probably won’t be done here until at least eight p.m., but that leaves hours before he sleeps, and he has no earthly idea what to do besides get drunk. “Gavin took the kids to San Francisco for the weekend since we’re here. Want to come over and hang out for awhile?” He gapes at her a little, and she flushes, fidgeting with her eyes down. “ I just… sorry… “ She begins to say, and he tilts his head, “ I just thought you might not wanna be alone. You’re going to be alone, right?” He bites his lip and nods, feeling his eyes start to fill again. “ Look, i’ll like leave it up to you. I just wanted to offer, cause I wouldn't want to be alone, if I was you.” She smiles softly at him again. He has to swallow a few times before he can speak, and clear his throat, but he looks at the floor (because he doesn’t think he’ll make it through the words if he looks at her).

 

“ That’d be nice…” he finally says lowly, and she smiles at him. Then, they both have to go, and he takes a deep breath before he sits in the makeup chair and gives Jenny an apologetic look as he slides next to Gwen in the dressing area (what he doesn’t know is that Gwen has explained that Blake was having a bad day and that he’d prefer she not say anything about it), but Jenny just adds more concealer, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder when he’s done. 

 

They get through the auditions, and if Blake isn't as _on_ as he usually is, Gwen makes up for it with the zeal for which she advocates for people to join Blake’s team when she isn’t in the running. A lot of times she is, because they seem to like the same types of voices, and then she gives it all she has against him (and she might be imagining it, but he seems to perk up more when its her versus him, and he’s almost but not quite his old self). 

 

That night, Gwen takes him in her car to her house, and she sits them on the balcony facing the ocean, turning the heater on outside and bringing out cups of tea (he’s usually not a tea person at all, but this is good, all licorice peppermint and sweetened with honey, and he drinks the whole thing). She sits on the opposite chair to his, and they sit in silence for awhile before he finds himself talking. He tells Gwen more about his brother than he’s ever told anyone but Miranda, he tells him ow much he admired him and how hard it was to write the song for him, how much he misses him still sometimes and how his mom still hangs his stocking every year. 

 

Gwen sits and listens, grabs blankets to cover their legs and refills their teacups. He tells her about Miranda, then, even though he doesn’t mean to. He tells her about asking her to come to LA and her refusing to, hell he even shows her the texts because he has no heart to mouth filter. She reads them and looks at him with empathetic and understanding eyes, only saying, “ I know what it’s like to be lonely, Blake,” and he nods, having to swallow again.

 

He finally calls his driver to go back to his house around midnight, and he climbs into bed, too tired to do more than plug in his phone. Right after he’s falling asleep though, he thinks about the fact that he didn’t have one drink on this day. For the first time he can remember, he remembers the entire day from beginning to end. Even though it’s painful, it’s somehow heartening, because he feels closer to his brother, like he’s finally acknowledged the pain and made an attempt to deal with it. 

 

Before he can forget, he sends a text to Gwen.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Thank you for today. Seriously.**

 

He gets a text back almost immediately.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Always.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make my world go round! :).


	4. Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Gwen has a huge fight with Gavin the night before she films the battle rounds with him, and Blake comes over to cheer her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in uploading! Things have been kind of nuts, and i've got a huge school project coming up, so I have not been as inspired to work on this as much. I promise I will be more regular in my updating in the future. Thank you all for all of your kind comments, I really really appreciate it!

It’s almost nine p.m. when Gwen texts Blake. She can barely see the screen through her tears and through the shaking of her hands. She doesn’t know what to do, she feels more hopeless than she has in a long time, and she needs to go to someone. Only, her parents are in Hawaii with Todd and Jen, and she hasn’t told anyone else about her marital problems. As far as anyone else was concerned, Gwen was happily married and had been for a long time, and she’s not willing to break the facade just so she can escape for a little while. She’s tempted to go to a hotel for awhile, a low key one in the suburbs where hopefully no one will recognize her, just to lay in bed and cry and sleep for a few hours, but she’s lonely. Even though she’s surrounded by two of her three children, she feels utterly alone. When she thinks of who she can turn to other than her family, she immediately thinks of Blake. There’s been this immediate synergy between them from the second they met, she feels like she’s known him for years even though it’s only been a few months. She comforted him when he cried into her neck a few weeks ago, for God’s sake, when he cried like his very soul was being wrenched out of his body. She’d given him Kleenex and brought him a hazelnut latte and made him tea that night while he bared his heart, she’d heard about how awful (even though he never said it) his marriage was, she’d gotten to know so much about him. Right now, all she hopes though, is that he’s willing to return the favor. She needs the man who’s become one of her closest friends in such a short period of time.

 

The evening isn’t a good one. Gavin’s been in a mood all day, and he’s been taking it out on the kids. Nothing Zuma or Kingston can do is good enough (Zuma had brought home a A- on his math test and Gwen had smiled and hugged him; Gavin had looked at him with cold eyes and asked him why he hadn’t tried hard enough to get an A. When Zuma had told him that he studied, Gavin had waved it off, saying that he would be proud of him when he did the best, not just good. She’d had to hug her middle child close after Gavin had left the room and tell him that he would always be a winner to her as Zuma cried, and she’d cursed Gavin a little for making her child feel this way), and Gavin practically ignores Apollo as he holes up in his office, telling her that she “better shut her baby up” as Apollo cried. She’d swung Apollo from one hip and helped Zuma with his homework and let Kingston go over to a friends house for a sleepover (Kingston wouldn’t usually be allowed to, on a school night, but they went to school together and Kingston had looked so _desperate_ to get away from the house and from Gavin that Gwen had agreed. She didn’t even think Gavin would notice). She’d made dinner, lasagna for the boys and Gavin and a salad with chicken breast for herself, and had left out a large portion for Gavin while she set her two younger sons at the table and helped them with their food. She’d put Apollo to sleep for the night, and had set Zuma up with Aladdin, going into the kitchen to do the dishes. She hasn’t seen Gavin in a few hours, but that’s nothing unusual, because there’s heavy metal music coming from his office which must mean he’s doing something (what she doesn’t even know, or care). She leaves out enough lasagna for Gavin and puts the rest of it away in the refrigerator, loading the dishes into the dishwasher and taking in a deep breath in and out. She feels exhausted, like she wants to sleep for the next fourteen hours, yet she knows she’ll probably only get a few once she puts the kids to bed. Call is at eight tomorrow for the Battle Rounds, and she and Gavin have to leave by 7:30 if she wants to be there on time. 

 

Just then, Gavin comes into the kitchen, scoffing at her. “ What you couldn’t wait for me to eat?” He says tensely. He rolls his eyes at her then, letting out a breath and grabbing his plate to heat it in the microwave. Gwen clenches her jaw and slams the wet plate she’s rinsing a little too hard in the sink, turning to face him.

 

“ Apollo had to go to bed and Zuma was hungry Gavin,” She said sharply, leveling a glare at him. Her husband rolled his eyes again at her, crossing his arms and widening his stance.

 

“ Typical,” He murmured under his breath, and she inhaled a shaky breath in. They stood there in uncomfortable silence broken by the sound of the sink running water on the plates Gwen was putting in the dishwasher and the microwave reheating Gavin’s lasagna.  “So, I don’t think I'm going to be able to come tomorrow,” Gavin said suddenly, his voice tense and cold. Gwen turned to look at him with furrowed brows. 

 

“ What?” She said, because he couldn’t mean…?

 

“ The battle rounds. I’ve stuff going on,” Gavin said, leaning against the island. Gwen’s mouth drops open and she completely forgets about the fact that her hands are soapy wet, clenching them on her jean clad thighs.

“ What?! Gavin you can’t be serious!” She says shrilly, trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible. Zuma hears enough of their fighting, he doesn’t need to hear this too.  “We’ve been planning this for months.” She says quietly, tensely. He shrugs, slouching.

 

“ I’m sure your little show will survive just fine. Find some other gomer,” He says, picking his food out of the microwave and grabbing a fork out of the drawer. She stops him with a hand on his wrist, in the next second crossing her arms and looking up at him. She’s sad and mad and not surprised all at the same time.

 

“ Gavin, you begged me to let you be my advisor on this show. You. Begged. Me,” She poked her finger towards him, “ and now you’re saying you can’t make it because you have “stuff” going on? What kind of stuff? I’m your wife.” She says tensely but quietly. He seems to explode at this, slamming his plate down and practically throwing his fork down onto the tile floor. 

 

“ You don’t get to know everything about me! It’s stuff, okay? Are you happy now, you nagging harpy!!!” He shouts at her, and she cringes a little even though she’s beyond pissed off. She hears rustling and winces, Zuma definitely heard that. She can stand his jibes towards her, but she hates the idea of her child being dragged into this. “ You’re the fucking one who wanted to be on this stupid fucking show, you’re the one who wanted to try to be the big fucking star, you get to figure it out and it’s not. My. Problem,” He’s on a roll now, and even as she’s trying to stand strong she’s breaking a little, because he always knows how to get to her, “ It’s going to be stupid and dumb, so why even need me? It’s not like you can give good advice anyways, or sing, what the hell difference is it going to make with me there?” He says it so cuttingly, so sharply, that she practically feels her knees buckle. Her eyes fill with tears, and she lowers her head. She’s learned, slowly but surely, that when he’s in a mood like this (and he’ll apologize later, he always does), the best thing to do is just take it, and she can’t be bothered to argue with him anymore. Gavin scoffs at her then and makes a sound, and sneers. “ I can’t even stand to look at you,” He said sharply, and left then, leaving his food. Gwen watched as he picked up his coat and slipped on his shoes, picking up his keys. Because he’s Gavin, because he’s the type of person who sometimes doesn’t know when to stop, because he needs to make himself feel better, he turns to her one last time and delivers a final blow, “ Make sure you wear some makeup tomorrow, will you? You want people to be able to stand your face,” He delivers, and then slams the door shut, the walls rattling.

 

Gwen’s left standing over the sink, fighting back the simultaneous urges to vomit and sob. He knows her too well, he knows exactly what touches on her insecurities (that she’s not good enough at music, she’s a lousy teacher, she’s not pretty enough), he knows how to make her feel worthless and hopeless and like she wants to escape forever. But, she married for keeps. They’d get through this period; in two years, they’d be laughing about it. She told herself that now more than anything else. 

 

She feels a tap on her shoulder the next second, and she turns to see her middle child looking up at her with tears on his face. Zuma’s crying and hugging himself, and he looks so upset, that Gwen can’t help but fold him into a hug.

 

“ Whatsa matter sweetums?” She says, hugging him close and shutting her eyes against her own onslaught of tears. Zuma buries his head in her chest, wrapping his arms tight tight tight around her.

 

“Mommy?” He asks, sniffling into her stomach. She rubs his back and nods. “ Why does Daddy hate us?” The words make a sob escape from Gwen’s mouth, because they’re so simple and so truthful and so real. She runs her hands through her son’s hair, and rocks them slowly. Zuma stands his feet on hers, and she shushes him under her breath.

 

“ Honey… Daddy doesn’t hate us. He’s just…” She has to take a deep breath then to keep the words from escaping through a sob, “ He’s having a bad day today. He loves you so, so, so much sweetie,” She says with conviction, because she believes it. Despite Gavin’s moods and how he treated Apollo sometimes, he did love his kids, she knew. He was a good dad, most of the time. She just seemed to bring out the worst in him, somehow.

 

Zuma nuzzles into her. “ Daddy has lots of bad days,” He says, and Gwen nods a little, her face crumpling as she does everything she can to hold back the tears. She’s too busy doing it that she doesn’t notice that Zuma has stopped crying, and he lifts his head a little to look at her.  “ I love you Mommy,” He says, and Gwen smiles at him through her tears she’s trying to hold back. This, this is why she’s trying to make her marriage work. This right here.

 

“ I love you too, oh so much.” She says, and Zuma smiles at her. She still feels like she’s about to break apart, though, and she feels oh so incredibly lonely. She needs comfort, comfort that she can’t take from her kids, and she knows immediately who she wants to invite over yet is hesitating. She clears her throat, setting her jaw.

 

“ Zums, how would you feel if a friend of mine came over for a little while honey?” She asks, and Zuma nods, smiling (but its a shadow of his usual naked joy, and she misses that joy her middle child usually brought into a room). “ Do you remember Blake?” She asks, and Zuma nods, smiling wildly. She’d brought her three kids to the opening party (which was really more of a get together given the number of kids who were there), and Blake had been a smash hit. He was a natural with kids, and she remembers turning from a conversation with Mark to find Zuma practically collapsing on the floor in laughter while Blake laughed too next to him. Blake had ruffled his hair, and Zuma had grinned up at him, a grin of naked joy. 

 

She breaks away from her son after bringing him back to his movie, and goes to her phone. There’s no text from Gavin (but she didn’t know what she expected, he could go anywhere but there as far as she was concerned at that moment), but she texts Blake, feeling her hands shake a little.

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Can u come over pls? Had a huge blow up with Gavin and Z is really upset; he needs some cheering up and I don't know what else to do.**

 

The message glosses over the fact that it’s really her who needs comfort, but considering Blake had spent almost two and a half hours with her middle child she figured that would do the trick. And it does, because seconds later Blake is responding.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Of course I can. Poor Zuma, does he need anything? Can I bring anything? Chocolate? More french fries? vodka?**

 

She laughs a little under her breath through the tears she’s still holding back, and she text back.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen.**

 

**No we’re ok. As much as i’d love to get shitfaced right now not a good idea.**

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**I know how that goes. Brt.**

 

Gwen smiles and sighs gratefully when she sees the message; she could really use a friend right now (the thought crosses her mind as to why she’s turning to a newer friend instead of an older one, but she pushes it aside. Because not a lot of people know about her and Gavin’s marriage, and she wants to keep it that way). She hesitates over the keys, tapping her nails against the screen.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Actually…. M &Ms? **

 

They’re her secret comfort food. She remembers eating them when she was a child; when life was a lot easier and she didn’t have to worry so much about her waistline. The response comes a few seconds later.

 

 

 

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Plain or peanut? :)**

 

She smiles to herself and bites her lip.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Peanut please. Thnx.**

 

She puts the phone down then and sits down next to her middle child, watching the tail end of _Aladdin_.

 

Aladdin is just defeating Jafar when the doorbell rings. Zuma grins at her a little and says, 

“Blake?” and she nods. He goes to answer the door, and she follows behind him. When Zuma opens the door, Gwen’s eyes go wide. Because there’s a few things that surprise her.

 

First, Blake is carrying a huge grocery bag full of stuff; it’s packed to the brim with God only knows what. Second, there’s a furry body bumping into the back of Blake’s knees, wagging her tail furiously and whining under her breath. Third, Blake looks a little like he just got out of bed. His curls are everywhere, and his shirt and jeans look a little like they’ve been slept in. His eyes are tired and bags are under them. Gwen realizes something then, and she puts the hand not holding the door open over her mouth.

 

“Oh my gosh I woke you up didn’t I?” Is all Gwen can say instead of hello, standing behind Zuma and holding the door open. Blake shrugs, going a little red and ducking his head ever so slightly.

 

“ Just a nap that’s all,” Blake murmured. They stared at each other for a second, and Gwen suddenly turned to Betty. She crooked an eyebrow, smiling at the dog and then at Blake.

 

“ And who’s this?” She asks, crossing her arms playfully. Blake looks sheepish again, and he fidgets.

 

“ This is Betty, my dog. She usually stays with my ma back in Oklahoma, but she’s here with me for a couple weeks and she kinda freaks out if she’s not around someone.” Blake looks at her, and Gwen’s still silent, looking down at the dog. Blake fidgets more then, his face turning red. “ Shit I shoulda asked you should I? You probably don't even like dogs, it was stupid even..” And Blake’s off, mumbling under his breath as he talks himself into a total self-defacing state. Gwen can’t help it then, because she sets a hand on Blake’s arm as Zuma sits down to pet the dog, giggling when Betty’s tail goes like mad and the dog licks all over his face. She smiles up at Blake a little, squeezing his arm and stopping his little self-tirade. 

 

“ Blake, Blake,” She says, interrupting his babbling (he stops and looks at her, biting his lip deeply in that way she has to admit is attractive). “ I love dogs, and it’s fine. “ Gwen leans down then to pet the dog too, and laughs when the dog licks at her hand playfully. Betty is exactly the type of dog Gwen pictured for Blake, happy and exuberant and a little crazy sometimes. Blake, for his part, is smiling down at her in surprise, his mouth open a little.

 

“ Didn’t think you’d like dogs licking your hand,” He said simply, and she tilted her head at him. He shrugged in an _I don’t know why_ gesture, but she crooked her eyebrow playfully again.

 

“ I’m capable of getting dirty with the rest of ‘em Blake, I do have three boys,” she says, and somehow the mood acquires a different quality. Because Blake’s eyes heat up, and he looks in her brown ones with the force of the ocean crashing against the rocky outcroppings of cliffs. In turn, she feels her own gaze heat up into molten chocolate, and they just look at each other for a few seconds. Gwen feels goosebumps travel up her spine at the heat of his gaze, and she unconsciously nibbles at the inside of her cheek. 

 

They probably would have looked at each other for way too long if Gwen’s knees hadn’t suddenly been almost taken out from under her, the doorframe being the only thing saving her from falling down, when both Betty and Zuma slam into her, the dog woofing happily and Zuma giggling. Gwen steadies herself (but she notices Blake shake his head slightly and his hand shoot out to try to steady her elbow as she trips), and then smiles to Blake slightly, motioning him in.

 

“So, I brought some stuff,” Blake says, and Gwen laughs under her breath. Zuma’s still occupied with the dog, so Blake and Gwen head into the kitchen, where Blake sets the grocery bag down on the kitchen counter. 

 

“ Yeah?” Gwen asks, trying to peer in the bag. Blake turns it away from her with a playful glare, preventing her from seeing what’s inside it.

 

“ So my niece’s favorite movie is Monsters Inc, and I don’t know if Zuma has seen it….” He pulls the DVD out of the bag, and Gwen grins at him, a full beam. 

 

“ Zuma loves that movie, we all do, including me,” She said, and Blake grinned back. 

 

“ Well,” Blake said, rustling through the bag, “ Also, your peanut M&MS,” he hands her a family sized bag of them, and she keeps smiling at him, “ Root beer because I can’t get you drunk in front of your kid,” Gwen giggles, “ and also dill pickle chips, which is my version of peanut M&Ms. Also brought a couple snacks for Zuma, but I don’t know what he likes, so..” and he pulls out four different kinds of candy, all ranging in flavor. Gwen’s eyebrows raise. 

She peers them over, finally picking out the Nutter Butters for Zuma (because they have sugar but not crazy amounts and she knows that he’ll end up having a lot of her M&Ms and probably some chips too, and she doesn’t want to go nuts and have him bouncing off the walls). Blake grins and laughs when she grabs for the gummy worms too with a grin. 

 

They finally get the dog and Zuma settled down, and Zuma whoops when he sees the movie that Blake plugs in with Gwen’s instruction. 

 

“ Monsters Inc! Thanks Blake!” He says, pulling Blake into a quick hug. Blake, for his part, looks shocked but a beaming smile comes over his face and he returns the hug, patting the child on the back a few times before releasing him. “ MIKE WAZOWSKI!” Zuma shouts at top volume, and Gwen thanks God Apollo’s room is soundproof. It’s almost right in Blake’s ear, but instead of cringing (like Gavin might have, and telling Zuma he needed to use his inside voice), Blake grins at Zuma.

 

“ Put that thing back where it came from or so help me,” Blake says dryly, and Zuma and Gwen collapse into giggles. Blake grins a little like he’s just won the lottery, and presses play. 

 

Ten minutes in, Betty smushes her way up onto Gwen’s five thousand dollar leather couch, settling half on Zuma’s lap half on the leather with a pant. Blake shoots Gwen an apologetic look and makes to get her off, and Gwen should let him, but then Zuma grins and wraps his arms around the dog, kissing her head sweetly, and all of Gwen’s resolve leaves. She shakes her head at Blake, waving him off, and within minutes both the dog and Zuma are fast asleep.

 

Gwen steals more than a few of Zuma’s Nutter Butters and Blake pulls the brown M&Ms out of the bag, and Gwen tries dill pickle potato chips and loves them, and she thinks about how nice it is to just be able to relax without having someone pick on her every move. Those thoughts bring her back to thoughts of Gavin and the reason Blake is even here, and her thoughts go maudlin even as something funny is happening on the screen. 

 

Blake seems to sense it though, because he motions with his head out to the balcony, and Gwen nods, taking her bottle of root beer with her (and Blake takes his). They stand outside in the slight warmth of the night, staring out at the beach and listening to the waves crash on the shore, and Gwen worries her lower lip. 

 

Blake clears his throat, “ D…. do you want to talk ‘bout it?” He asks quietly. They’re a respectable distance apart, but somehow their elbows stretch to slightly touch each other resting on the wrought iron white gate. Gwen swallows and looks down, fighting back the lump in her throat. She feels tears come to her eyes again, and tries her best to will them away. 

 

“ Gavin and I had a fight,” She said eventually, her voice crackling. Blake doesn’t say anything, but the silence is expectant, and so Gwen continued, “ He’s supposed to be my advisor, right?” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Blake nod, “ Well he comes to me tonight and tells me that he’s got “stuff” going on and that he can’t do it. The freaking night before we film,” She feels her voice rising and getting higher and she tries to stop it. “I’m just so, so tired of him putting down my accomplishments and what music is all about,” She’s whining now, she knows she is, but she’s upset and she needs to vent, so she’s doing it. 

 

“What do you mean?” Blake asks, his voice concerned. Gwen took a sip of her root beer, sniffling in slightly. 

 

“ He called the Voice a “ little show,”” She feels Blake’s irritation even when he doesn’t say it; and why should he be irritated? This show is him and Adam’s baby, and Gwen knows they’re territorial about it.  “When it’s actually so cool because I get to help people be better, you know? Even though i’m not that good at this whole music thing, I get to m—“ She’s interrupted by Blake scoffing at her, turning from the railing to the balcony to face her.

 

“ What do you mean you ain’t good at this whole music thing?!” Gwen shrugs, peeling the label off her root beer and shuffling her heels. 

 

“ It’s not like i’m a good singer, or anything. I just got lucky, and get to do what I love,” She mumbled, blinking away the tears.

 

“ Who told you you weren’t a good singer?” Blake’s voice was harsh but gentle at the same time, a total dichotomy, and and Gwen fidgeted. She didn’t want to totally throw Gavin under the bus, because she loved him (she still did, despite how she hated the way he treated her sometimes). Gwen sniffled again, this time more wetly, and she felt a couple tears fall down her face. “ Know who you remind me of?” Blake said, and Gwen shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. “Stevie Nicks.” Gwen’s mouth falls open, “ You guys both have such unique different voices. Just because you don’t sound like pop princesses don’t mean you’re not good,” He says firmly, finally, like that’s that, and the seriousness and authoritativeness with which he speaks makes a sob stick in her throat.

 

“I…” her voice sounds needy and whiney, and she hates it even as she feels like she might fall apart, “ I love Fleetwood Mac.” Blake smiles at her.

 

“Me too,” He says, and for some odd reason that she can’t explain, that seems to break her, because suddenly she’s crying, deep wracking sobs that fill her whole body. The next second, her root beer bottle is being pulled out of her hands and she’s being pulled into a pair of strong, pine scented arms, and she buries her face in Blake’s shoulder as she cries. She’s crying for the fact that her marriage is falling apart beneath her eyes, the fact that she’s probably screwed up the entire production of the show hiring Gavin to be her advisor, the fact that she’s tired of being made to feel like she’s worthless, the fact that she’s had more fun in the last hour with Blake than she’s had in the last month with her husband. 

 

Blake’s rubbing high on her back and murmuring soothing words in her ear, not necessarily intelligible ones but ones that are helping just the same, and Gwen finds her sobs quieting, basking in the weigh of having someone who feels like she’s worth something. She stays holding on probably too long, her nose buried in the soft, huggable plaid flannel of Blake’s shirt, her arms wrapped around his neck. She sniffles in one last time and makes to break away, but Blake stops her, moving his hands to her upper arms.

 

“ I want you to listen to me, and i’m sayin’ this having mentored probably a hundred artists by now. You. Are. Amazin’. You have a voice that’s like no one i’ve ever heard, and that’s a good thing Gwen,” He’s staring deeply into her eyes as he says it, and she sniffles wetly at him. She probably looks a mess, all running mascara and red nose and blotchy face, but he’s looking at her like it doesn’t even matter. She smiles at him in slight thanks, and she wipes her hands over her face to try to get rid of some tears. He moves his hands down to squeeze hers, and then smiles ever so slightly at her. “ Go wash your face and we’ll finish the movie,” He says, and Gwen nods. She does it, and then with his help, she puts Zuma to bed, Betty settling at his feet on his bed before Blake can stop her. Gwen waves his hand away again then, and they leave Zuma’s door slightly open, walking back out to the living room. Blake gives her a couple of blue peanut M&Ms out of the bag on the side table, and she smiles (because of course he noticed she likes the blue ones). 

 

They watch the rest of the movie, and when the credits roll Gwen starts to turn and say something to Blake about loving the movie, but she stops short. Because Blake is asleep, his arms thrown over the back of the couch and his head resting uncomfortably along the back of the couch. His mouth is open a little, and his eyes are scrunched shut tight. She takes the opportunity to look at him for awhile (because if she probes her deepest desires she realizes that he’s so effortlessly handsome; so unlike Gavin’s carefully coiffed image. Blake has wrinkled clothing and crazy hair and kind of looks like he just stepped out of bed, but he’s handsome and he doesn’t realize it), but eventually she gently taps him on the shoulder. He startles, his hands coming up to rub over his face as he scrunches down slightly.

 

“Crap, sorry,” he says, and his voice is gravelly and exhausted. She smiles at him.

 

“ Fell asleep pretty quick there,” She teases, but he looks off into space, his smile totally absent for a moment. He looks like he could fall back asleep any second.

 

“ Not been sleepin’ well lately,” he mumbled, scrubbing his hand over his face again. She tutted a little, tilting her head.

 

“Everything ok?” She asked, because he’d helped her so much. She wanted to help him too. He smiled a little at her, but it was empty and fake, and for the first time that night she really looked into his eyes deeply (other than the dirty comment, but that was a whole other kind of look). His eyes were empty cornflower, filled with hurt and something else she couldn’t name. 

 

“ Not gonna burden you right now, you’ve sat through enough of my shit,” He mumbled, standing and stretching. He pulled out his phone to text his driver, and put it back in his pocket, looking towards Zuma’s room. He walked towards Zuma’s doorway, standing in the doorframe. Betty immediately lifted her head, wagging her tail slightly from where she was draped over Zuma’s feet. Blake gently ever so softly whispered under his breath, and Betty was beside him. He walked towards the door then, smiling a little at Gwen. “This was fun,” He said, and Gwen nodded. Before she could think about it too much, she was hugging him briefly, kissing him on the cheek.

 

“ Thank you… for everything,” Gwen said, infusing her words with as much meaning as she possibly could. He nodded, his head coming to rest briefly at the side of her hair, and took her hands again.

 

“ You’re worth more than you think you are,” He said simply, and opened the door as soon as his phone buzzed. And she was left there, smiling but teary, happy and relaxed yet worried at the same time. 

 

Her phone buzzed as she was thinking, and she pulled it out with a smile that faded as soon as she saw who it was.

 

**From: Gavin**

**To: Gwen**

 

**Staying at George’s tonight. See you for filming tmrw. 8 right?**

 

Gwen clenched her jaw, typing with fast and furious motions.

 

**From: Gwen**

**To: Gavin**

 

**What you still wanna do my “little show?”**

 

The response came a few seconds later.

 

**From: Gavin**

**To: Gwen**

 

**Dont start. Lets just get this shit over with ok?**

 

Gwen nodded and gritted her teeth, typing back a **Fine.** She sighed, looking still towards the doorframe, before she grabbed the leftover snacks and put them in her kids’ snack cabinet, popping a couple more gummy worms into her mouth as she shut the house for the night. She goes to bed alone, and if she dreams of curling up next to pine scented soft flannel, then that's no one's business but her's.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments or constructive critique you have would be much appreciated.


	5. Saying Goodbye for Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Gwen helps make over Craig, and Blake and Gwen say goodbye for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to someone who has come into my life recently and who has made it very very special; he knows who he is. A few of our favorite corny jokes are in here so I hope you all enjoy them.

Blake’s having more fun this season than he remembers having in a long time. Sure, he’d always loved the show. He loved the chance to get to teach people the way Trace taught him and loved seeing artists full of hope take the stage, not to mention the fact that he loved being surrounded by that much music day in and day out for eight months out of the year. He’d figured that it hadn’t gotten stale yet, and when both he and Adam decide that they’ve had enough they’ll quit together and let the show run its course without them. But, there’s something special about this season, and he’s pretty sure he knows why.

 

It all has to do with the little blonde ray of sunshine sitting two seats down from him. Gwen’s so so different than he was expecting in so many ways. She’s funny, sweet, goofy, nerdy, and bubbly. She likes to nurture people just like he does and he honestly thinks she loves music as much as he does (though they like totally different types of music they tend to pick people with the same kinds of voices). She’s nice to everyone even when no one is looking, even the assistant who refills her water bottles in the chair. She’s got the entire crew wrapped around her well manicured finger; she could say jump and about eighty percent of them, a mixture of men and women, would ask her how high. It’s probably because she brings them little gifts; chocolates that she leaves on the seats of the sound booth, a little container of all natural diaper cream for the janitor who just had a baby (when Blake catches her at it she blushes and tells him that it’s the best diaper cream she’d ever used on her babies but it’s fifty bucks a jar and she knows the janitor won’t be able to afford it. Blake’s crush for her increases ten fold when he sees her do that), a card for the lighting intern who just graduated from college. There’s probably fifty people behind the scenes of the show, and she knows every single one’s name within a week (it had taken Blake two, and he knows that it’s just him and Gwen that know everyone’s names). She knows birthdays and anniversaries and when someone has a big event coming up, knows just what to say when she and him catch a sound tech crying backstage because her kid got caught having sex behind the bleachers at school. 

 

It’s not just behind the scenes that Gwen’s amazing, either. It’s on camera. Because she’s just as nice on camera as she is behind the scene, but the niceness brings with it a fierceness and a strength that Blake can’t help but admire. She goes head to head with him during the blind auditions for people and wins as many singers as he does; she stands on her chair and gets up onstage to sing part of her song for a contestant (her sheer strength the minute she steps up onstage takes his breath away, a little), she puts on a smile for the battle rounds even though he knows she wants to strangle her husband for acting the way he did the night before (and he does too want to strangle him, he’ll never forget Gwen’s sobs as she told him she didn’t think she was good enough at this music thing; the sheer rage that had filled him when he saw Gavin and met him for the first time had shocked even him. He thought he did pretty well at covering, other than when he shook his hand and he’d seen Gavin wince as Blake squeezed it as tight as he could. No one else had noticed, but Gavin had looked at him for a few seconds, and he seemed to have gotten it. He was extra touchy with Gwen all day, and constantly looked at Blake with that insufferable little smirk he had.)

 

During the battles, Gwen steals Craig and then Blake steals him back. He has way too much fun making her laugh and teasing her, and she teases him right back. He stays later and later on the set, because Gwen keeps longer hours because of how long it takes her to get ready and un-ready in the mornings and evenings. He puts too many calls from Miranda over to voicemail in favor of sitting in Gwen’s trailer and talking to her for hours (because friendship with Gwen is _easy_ in a way his relationship with Miranda wasn’t right now).

 

It’s during one of those times, at eight o clock at night when Gwen is in her changing area where Blake can’t see her changing out of her show outfit, that Blake decides to ask her. “ Hey, Gwen?” He says. He’s sitting on her trailer couch with one of his legs crossed, his leg jiggling as he fiddles with his phone.

 

“ Yeah?” She calls from in her bathroom, the door crooked over so slightly. 

 

“ S—“ He’s interrupted when his phone rings. It’s Miranda calling, and Blake’s finger hovers over the decline button before he decides to get it (because he hadn’t talked to her in almost two weeks). He stands up and motions to Gwen, who's come out of her bathroom in dark jeans and a white long sleeved shirt, that he’s going outside to answer his phone, and she nods, drying her hair.

 

“ Hi darlin’,” He says quietly. He hears a groan from the other end of the phone.

 

“ Blake, c’mon stop it with the pet names. Told ya before I hate ‘em,” Miranda’s voice is snappy and tense, and Blake feels his shoulders tense and then slouch. He stuffs the hand not holding his phone in his pocket, clenching it over his keys. 

 

“Sorry,” He murmurs, because he is. He knows she’s not nearly as emotional or mushy or he is, so he’s making an effort to respect her wishes with regard to things like pet names because he loves her. She’s fierce and feisty and strong, and he loves those things about her. “Whatd’ya up to?” He asks, because he really does miss her (even though he’s missing her less lately and hell that’s something he only thinks about when he’s at home, in bed, alone, again).

 

“ Well I’m in Tish for a few days and am wonderin’ if you comin’ down,” Miranda says, the sound of a couple of thumps (she’s probably taking the brood of dogs out, he thinks). His heart skips a little bit, because finally they have a chance to be together. 

 

“ Right now?” He asks, his voice cracking a little bit (because hello, he’s a man who’s gone almost three months without seeing his wife, of course he’s thinking of all he things he could do to her now). He hears her scoff through the phone.

 

“ Yeah dipshit, so get down here. Only here till Wednesday at like 5 a.m.,” Miranda says, half teasingly. His heart sinks and he can’t help the sound of frustration that escapes his mouth.

 

“‘Ran I’m filming till Wednesday, ‘member the show?” He says. 

 

“ Oh fucking god Blake really?! This stupid ass show gonna take over our marriage again, really?” Her voice is shrill and high, and his neck tenses.

 

“ Well I didn’t know you were gonna be in Tish!” Blake snaps back, pacing back and forth across the studio lot now. 

 

“ If you called me once in awhile you would know!” She’s yelling now too, and Blake groans, rubbing a hand over his face. He sighs, deep and weary, because this is an argument they’ve had before. 

 

“Look, maybe I can see if we can switch…” Blake trails off as Miranda scoffs through the phone again.

 

“ You know what Blake? Forget it. Might as well go on tour all the time at this rate. Not like ya ever come to perform with me anymore,” She says, her voice cutting. There’s an uncomfortable charged silence through the phone, and Blake feels his eyes fill a little. He shakes his head and swallows heavily to will them away. That’s the last thing he needs right now, because Miranda hates it when he cries. 

 

“ Ran i’m sorry,” His voice is a little weak and pathetic, and he already misses her so so so much, and he’s feeling a little bereft and yet furious at the same time.

 

“ Whatever. Bye,” Her voice is tense and she hangs up on him, leaving him holding the phone a foot from his face and staring into the contact screen of the two of them with their cheeks together three years ago, looking oh so happy. 

 

In a surprising fit of rage, he lets out a huge growl of frustration, throwing his phone down onto the rubber floor of the trailer area and throwing up his hands. He paces, running his hands through his hair, back and forth a little. Only, on his next turn, he comes face to face with Gwen, who's staring at him with a little smile on her face and her hair dry. It’s back in a spunky bun, and she looks half the made up Barbie half the tomboy. She pads over to pick up his phone, handing it to him. 

 

“ What’d the phone do to you?” She asks softly, crooking an eyebrow. Blake can’t bring himself to smile, though, because he takes it and sharply stuffs it in his pocket, letting out a huge breath and staring over Gwen’s shoulder. He’s still vibrating with anger and sadness, loneliness and righteousness, so many feelings he can’t even name. His thoughts are interrupted with Gwen nudges her foot with his, standing close to him and crossing her arms as she tilts her head. “Wanna talk about it?” She asks, foot nudging a steady beat into his. He shakes his head and then nods it, stuffing both of his hands in his pockets and biting his lip. 

 

“Ever wish you hadn’t gotten married?” He asks bluntly, and then hunches, blushing deeply, digging his toe into the rubber of the floor. “ Shit sorry, don’t answer that that was so frickin’ personal,” He would have looked at the floor for the next four years, too, if Gwen hadn’t responded.

 

“ A lot of times,” Gwen’s voice is soft and vulnerable, but his head snaps up like she had shouted it at him. He searches her eyes, and they’re filled with the same type of loneliness and sadness that he feels, with none of the anger currently present in his. He sighs again, still digging his toe into the floor.

 

“ I just…. I love ‘Ran. So much. And she’s not a bad person; she’s really not. But lately all we do is fight. We never see each other,” He’s whining now, he knows it, but he can’t help it, he’s horny and needs her arms around him and her lips on his, needs her to spoon against and not just for the sex but for everything else too. But, he’s got word vomit right now (like he always seems to around Gwen), and he can’t stop himself, “ And now she’s in Tish and I can’t even go ‘cause she didn’t tell me about it, and now I wont see her for probably another month and i’m just fuckin’ sick of it.” He has to swallow then around another lump, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Gwen just looking at him, with big concerned brown eyes. “ When we got married we didn’t even want to go to the fuckin’ grocery store without each other, so how did we go from that to not seein’ her for months at a time?” He pants into the studio, his chest full of emotion. She nudges her foot with his again, putting a hand on his elbow.

 

“C’mon i’ll buy you a drink,” She jokes, leading them back to her trailer and to her wet bar, pouring him a glass of bourbon before taking her own (his eyebrows had nearly hit his hairline and she’d grinned before sipping at hers as ladylike as could be). She flops down on the couch and he flops next to her, looking into his glass and sighing again.

 

“Sorry to get all….” He motions into the air with his hand, and she interrupts him by taking his wrist in her hand, forcing him to look at her. She shakes her head meaningfully, smiling a little at him.

 

“Blake, it’s fine,” Her voice is so firm, so true, that he believes her. He takes a long drink of his bourbon and then takes in another deep breath and lets it out. “ Hell if I can sob on your chest you sure as hell can vent at me for awhile,” Blake blushes at the thought; he’d held onto Gwen too long the other night but he couldn’t help it; he hadn’t had a woman’s arms around him in so so long. 

 

He shakes himself out of his mood a little, “ Probably should stop being so depressing,” He teases softly, his hand clenching in his glass. She tilts her head at him looking at him with her hand still on his wrist, before seeming to come to a decision and nodding a little. “ Gotta keep bein’ funny for the tapes, right? Otherwise where will you get your puns?” Blake jokes a little, and Gwen laughs slightly, shaking her head good naturedly at him.

 

“Don’t think I forgot the one about the cashews,” Gwen said while pointing at him. He laughed then, throwing his head back. God, it felt good to laugh, and Gwen always made him do it.

 

“ What, ya mean the one where I said I cashew it without you?” Blake arched his eyebrows up and down in a goofy face as he said the words. Gwen slapped a hand over her mouth and laughed hard, her whole body compressing in on itself. When she had herself together, she shook her head at him, hitting him on the arm.

 

“ Hey though,” she says through her giggles. He beams at her, because he can’t help it. She’s radiant when she laughs, “ Were you gonna ask me something before your phone rang?” He furrows his brow for a second before he remembered. “ You said Hey Gwen and then your cell went off,” Gwen said. Blake nodded.

 

“ Hey I was wonderin’ if you’d help me with somethin’,” Blake said, suddenly feeling self-conscious about asking her this.  

 

“Probably, but gotta know what it is first,” Gwen teased, and Blake smiled at her.

 

“ So I know that your contestants all got eliminated,” Blake begins, and winces a little as he sees Gwen’s face fall. It was kind of a sore spot and she’d been pretty broken up about it, he knew (he hadn’t gotten to comfort her this time that honor had gone to Pharell but he’d seen the tears in her eyes as she left the stage after the eliminations. She’d been hunched in on herself, almost like she wanted to disappear, and his hands had ached to hold her. He’d started to go over to her, but Adam had held him back with a glare, shaking his head as Pharell followed her offstage. Blake had gotten a ten minute lecture from Adam about flirting with women while he was married, and he’d taken it with the grace of someone who knew it was true.) “ But I need help with Craig,” Blake continues, and sees the shorter blonde woman tilt her head. “ He…. to be honest he looks like an unmade bed and I don’t really connect with him. Whereas you seem to.” Gwen blushed, because it was true. “ Can you help me get ‘em ready for the finale and kick Adam’s butt?” He teased, and Gwen giggled.

 

“ What, you don’t think your own fashion sense will get him a win?” Gwen teased. Blake laughed, shuffling his feet a little.

 

“ What fashion sense?” He teased, gesturing down at his plaid shirt, baseball hat, and boots. 

“ Don’t think a chubby cowboy can really help him,” He teases. Gwen laughs, throwing her head back and exposing her neck in that way that never fails to make him a little weak in the knees. 

 

“ Sure i’ll help,” She says good naturedly. Just then, her phone buzzes. She pulls it out of her jeans pocket and frowns down at the screen, her sunny disposition vanishing a little. Blake gets sad at that, because it’s like blacking out the sun. “ Gotta go, Apollo’s apparently throwing a fit and Gavin as usual doesn’t want to deal with it,” She says the last words bitterly, and sighs deeply. Blake can’t help but look at her, taking in her hair, her neck, her body, her long long legs in jeans from where they're tucked into Converse. She waves at him a little, smiling brightly, before turning around to walk away. He watches her go for another second and then turns around, resigning himself to a lonely night in his townhouse with a bottle of scotch. 

 

“ Blake!” Her voice stops him in his tracks, and she looks at him from three feet away, crossing her arms. There’s a blush on her face and a wonderful bashful expression, and she looks down at the ground and then back up at him. “ By the way, not that it’s like, worth anything, but you’re like, super super handsome. Your eyes are out of this world and your smile gets me every time,” She turns away quickly then and blushes more, walking back to her trailer. 

 

Blake’s left staring after her, his face bright red and his mouth open. He feels powerful and confident then, more so than he has in a long time. He knows he has a stupid smile on his face, knows he’s biting his lip in that way he does when he’s happy and embarrassed, but he can’t bring himself to care. And, if he walks a little proud back to his own trailer and decides to try writing again instead of curling up with a bottle of scotch, than that’s no one’s business but his. 

 

Gwen helps him work with Craig, and makes him over. He wins, and Gwen whoops  before practically jumping into his arms in a hug after the show. He holds her tight and spins her around a little, smiling from ear to ear, and then sets her down. “ You did it!!!!” She said, giving him a high five (and the fact that she has to practically volleyball jump to reach it is kind of hilarious). He can’t help himself then, because he takes her hand in both of us, forcing her to look him in the eye.

 

“ We did it.” He said firmly, looking her straight in the eye. She blushes, and they look at each other for a few minutes. They eventually have to break away from each other to talk to other people, and Blake sees Gwen hugging her kids and effortlessly soothing Apollo’s tears. He’s standing offstage, watching Gwen stand on the stairs and talk to one of the crew members, hugging them goodbye. He’s probably staring, because he feels a not to gentle bump against his shoulder. He turns and sees Adam standing there, looking up at him with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

 

“ Dude, you gotta stop.” Adam’s voice is reproachful, and Blake sighs. 

 

“ I know I fucking know Adam,” He says but his voice lacks any heat. He sighs again and stuffs his hands in his pockets, slouching his shoulders. 

 

“ Are things ok between you and Miranda?” Adam asks gently, and Blake has to swallow around the lump in his throat before he shakes his head.

 

“ We’re miserable, and I don’t even know why.” Blake’s voice ends on a whine, but he can’t help it. Adam rubs his back a little, soothing him with touch (because Miranda wasn’t a toucher and Blake craved it to stay grounded sometimes; Adam got it and he hugged him too much as a result). “ We can’t seem to coordinate our schedules, and when we do we just snap at each other.”  He takes comfort in the feeling of Adam’s hand rubbing up and down his back.

 

“Well you’ve got a couple weeks here before we film blinds for next season, so why don’t you go see her for awhile? See if you can work on it.” Adam says, and Blake’s reminded of why they’re friends. For all Adam is the stuck up diva a lot of the times, for all he seems to have the maturity of a five year old, he can sometimes be so soulful in a way you don’t expect. Blake nods, clenching his jaw.

 

“ Yeah, maybe i’ll find out where she’s touring and go surprise her,” The words lack inherent enthusiasm but Blake musters up a smile. “Sometimes I wonder if she gets me,” Blake blurts out, and looks down at his shoes. 

 

“W—“ Adam’s reply is cut off when Gwen bounds up to them, smiling from ear to ear while holding her youngest son. Blake’s eyes immediately go to the baby, who’s all chubby cheeks and big smile, and he cant help making a little face, beaming when the baby laughs. Gwen looks at him softly, smiling from ear to ear.

 

“ Hey Adam can you give us a sec?” Gwen asks, bouncing Apollo unconsciously on her hip. Adam hesitates, but at a look from Blake ( a _cmon her kid’s here i’m not tryin’ anything_ look) he walks off somewhere else. Gwen and he stare at each other for a minute, until Apollo breaks the mood by tugging hard on Gwen’s ear, making her wince. Blake laughs a little under his breath, because he loves babies and this one is Cute with a capital C. Gwen calmly tilts her head to let Apollo tug her ear, but looks back at him, refocusing. 

 

“ Look,” She says, biting her lower lip into her mouth a little, “ I just wanted to say thank you. For…you know, everything,” The words hold so much meaning, and Blake stares at her, unable to speak, hoping his eyes say what his heart can’t. He nods, shifting on his feet a little

 

“ So you’re really not comin’ back next season? Not till Season 9?” He asks, and she shakes her head. He knows it’s true, because he’s filming Blinds for next season in two weeks, but he wants to continue their conversation. He doesn’t want it to end.

 

“ I need a break, focus on my family,” Gwen says, and she looks back towards her kids. They stand in silence for a few moments. “ Focus on my marriage,” Gwen finally says. 

 

“ Yeah?” Blake says, and Gwen nods. Blake then feels the need to say something about how much this has mean to him over the past few months, but he doesn’t know what to say. So, he carefully pulls her into a hug around Apollo, inhaling the scent of her hair.

 

She sinks into him, smiling into his shoulder, and the mood is wonderful until he feels a sharp tug on the collar of his shirt and breaks away to find that baby Apollo has grabbed onto his shirt hard and is tugging at the collar. He makes a grabby hand with his other hand, and Blake looks to Gwen for permission (she gives it but she looks surprised) and pulls the baby into his arms. Apollo immediately latches onto his ear with one hand, while the other beats a nonsensical rhythm along his chest. Blake bounces him a little, smiling at him.

 

“ Well hi there little buddy,” He says to the baby, and Apollo giggles in response. Gwen beams from ear to ear, and they stand in comfortable silence for a few minutes. 

 

Eventually though, Gwen has to go (she’s skipping the party; her kids have school tomorrow and Gavin’s on tour, she tells him). He gives the baby back to her and smiles down at her one more time.

 

“ See ya in a few months, “ He says. She nods, looking up at him and biting her lip. Before he can realize what’s happening, she’s leaning up to kiss his cheek, and he breathes in a huge breath.

 

“ Don’t stop sending me corny jokes ok?” She says into his cheek, and he can’t even speak so he nods. 

 

He watches her walk away one more time, and thinks that the next few months are going to be very, very, very long. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make the heart grow fonder!


	6. Tragedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Blake's there for Gwen the night of the Grammys 2015.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was extraordinarily hard to write for a multitude of reasons. In fact, I was very close to just skipping this event and moving on past it, referencing it in later chapters. But, I decided not to. Hope you enjoy everyone.

If Gwen was honest looking back, the two months between the show ending and the night she found out were God awful. She’d purposefully put aside all of her projects for a few months to work on her marriage, so she had no real reason to leave the house. She’d had the Grammy’s performance with Adam, sure, but that required only a couple of hours of rehearsal a week and the rest of her days were taken up with nothing. Apollo was off with Mindy a lot of the time and the boys were at school until almost four, and then between four and eight was chaos. At eight, Apollo went to bed and Gwen hung out with her older boys, sometimes helping them with their homework and sometimes just cuddling with them on the couch. They went to bed at nine, and then Gwen, usually alone, was by herself with her thoughts. 

 

Although she hated being alone most nights, she hated the tension that suffused her house when Gavin was home even more. Two nights after the Voice finale, they’d had the biggest screaming fight they’d ever had about Gavin leaving for another tour, and even though they’d been in the kitchen trying to keep their voices down they’d woken all three of the children. To this day, Gwen still remembers Kingston’s terrified face as he tried to shield a teary eyed Zuma from what was going on, the way Kingston straightened and set his jaw with a hard look in his eye that bespoke of a man before pleading with Zuma to let them go back to bed, Apollo’s whines from the baby monitor, Zuma’s audible question to Kingston about whether Daddy was gonna hit Mommy (because Gavin had come kind of close even though he’d never hit her in their relationship; his hand had squeezed around her wrist tight tight tight and he’d raised his hand to make a point; she could see that he was warring within himself a little but that he wasn’t going to do it. Zuma didn’t know that, though). Ever since that night almost two months ago, the house had been tightrope tense. Gwen and Gavin had tiptoed around each other, interacting for the sake of their kids and nothing else. The tension had transferred to the kids; no longer would the house be filled with manic screams and Jedi Knight sword fights from four to eight p.m. like they always had been; now Zuma and Kingston usually did their homework early or escaped to friend’s houses. Gwen hated what her marriage troubles was putting the boy’s through, hated the fact that Apollo was extra fussy and refused to give up his pacifier even though it was time for him to (because even as a little child he had to pick up on it too, the tension). But, she told herself, it would get better. After the Grammy performance would also be the last night of Gavin’s tour, and she was going to sit him down and demand that he start attending their counseling sessions, his masculinity be damned. She was going to have a serious talk with him about their relationship and what it was doing to their kids, and beg him (she’d realize how pathetic that was later, but not now, now all she wanted was the happy family she’d once known back) to help her re-build their family.

 

She’d lost a lot of weight in not a lot of time and it showed in her figure; most nights she didn’t eat much if at all and she exercised like the devil to get out of the house. They’d had to alter her Grammy’s outfits a size down, and she’d seen her stylist give a concerned look to Allison, her assistant, as she had to pull the material in more. She’d gone to Grammy rehearsals and Adam had looked at her with deeply concerned eyes, opening his mouth a few times like he wanted to say something but shutting it just as fast.

They did a dress rehearsal the night before, and Gwen sang as best she could, but she knew she lacked passion. Afterwards, she stood out in the back of the theatre, looking up at the stage. Her arms unconsciously wrapped around herself as she stared out in the distance. 

 

“ Gwen?” A voice interrupted her, and she turned to see Adam with his jacket on and a beanie, a messenger bag over his shoulder. she gave him a small smile and look back out at the dark stage, letting out a deep sigh. She felt him come up next to her and touch her elbow. “ You ok?” Adam asked gently, standing next to her. Unexpectedly, she felt tears fill her eyes, and she bit her lip hard, shaking her head.  Adam cleared his throat, “ Wanna talk about it?” Gwen shook her head again (because she thought if she started talking she wouldn’t be able to stop crying, and she wasn’t ready to do that yet). Adam shifted a little beside her, his clothing rustling. “ Ok then… we’ll stand here for a while then ok?” Gwen nodded. 

 

It was a few long, emotion filled seconds before Gwen spoke. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, and turned her head slightly to look at Adam. “ How’s Blake doing, by the way?” Her voice cracked a little, and she cleared her throat. Beside her, she saw Adam tense slightly. 

 

“Fine,” Adam’s words were measured, and Gwen raised an eyebrow at him. Adam looked at her, and fidgeted slightly as she gave him what she liked to think of as her _I know you’re lying i’m your mom_ look. Adam sighed inaudibly. “ Not so good. Him and Miranda aren’t doing well,” Gwen stared at him, surprised and yet not at the same time. 

 

“ That’s too bad,” She said softly, looking out on the stage again. She then felt his sharp stare on her, and she turned to look at him. He was staring at her with a hard look, his arms crossed over his body. 

 

“ Is it?” He asked harshly, a biting phrase. She tilted her head even as she felt herself blush, and she felt goosebumps break out over her body.

 

“ Yes….” She said, her voice nervous. Adam looked at her for a few more harsh seconds before looking away. 

 

“ He’s kind of being a shit lately anyways,” Adam said eventually, changing the subject. Gwen relaxed (because this topic of conversation was too uncomfortable for her, her feelings for Blake if there were any there was something she was choosing not to examine), but frowned at Adam.

 

“ What do you mean?” Gwen asked. Adam sighed, a harsh breath through his nose.

 

“ Blake drinks but nothing crazy; a lot of the jokes about it are blown up, right?” Gwen nods, because Adam’s right. Blake never ever is drunk during the show; even though he makes jokes about it. He’s one of the most professional people she’s ever met, even as he’s goofy and silly. “Well the number of drunk texts he’s sent me over the last month have really been crazy even though he’s been in Oklahoma. Like, a lot more than usual.” Gwen furrowed her brow.  “ And when he’s drunk he’s a dick,” Adam said, frustration seeping into his voice. Gwen frowned. She was concerned about him; something about him just drew her in somehow. They’d grown very close in  just a few months, and to go from feast (to seeing him at least four times a week) to famine was hard (she didn’t want to examine why but it was). 

 

“ He was never a dick to me,” She said, more pondering than anything else. She felt Adam’s hard stare again then. 

 

“ Yes, well, I think we both know that you’re different,” Adam said. His voice was back to being tense and sharp, and Gwen blushed again, looking down at the floor. It was the first time she’d ever heard the words intimated ( _attraction, crush, the potential for a great and terrible beauty)_ , even if they were just being alluded to like they were now, and the feelings left her a little speechless. 

 

“S…” Gwen began, then stopped to swallow the flood of emotion in her throat, “ Should I text him to see how he’s doing?” Her voice sounded desperate, and she shook herself a little. She was in enough trouble just by herself. Her texting him would be for selfish reasons; anyways. she was longing to laugh. She hadn’t laughed in so, so long, and she wanted to hear his voice in her ear and his corny jokes.

 

She jumped a little at Adam’s hand on her arm. She turned to face him fully, and he looked at her with pleading eyes and said in a firm voice full of unsaid things, “ Please don’t.” Gwen stared at him for a few moments and felt her eyes fill, and she nodded before swallowing again. She turned back towards the stage then, trying to pull herself together. She took shaky breaths in, out, in, out. 

 

“ He’s coming tomorrow night, right?” She asked, and Adam nodded. She purposefully slouched her shoulders then, putting on the best facade of nonchalance she could. “ Well I gotta leave right after the performance anyways because Mindy has the kids and I like to tuck them in, so I probably won’t even see him, “ Her words are measured yet careless, so carefully chosen. Adam looks at her and shakes his head a little, adopting the same attitude.

 

“ Yeah, I mean what can you do I guess, huh?” He says, in that same nonchalant tone. Gwen nods, trying and failing to get the feeling that she’s stranded on a desert island alone with no chance of escape out of her heart.

 

******************************************************************

 

She texts Gavin as she’s getting ready the next night. 

 

 

 

 

**To: Gavin**

**From: Gwen**

 

 **I love you.** Because she means it, she really does. She loves him still, even as she’s not sure that their marriage will survive another month. She really really doesn’t want to do this tonight, she doesn't want to dress up and pretend that everything is great for the cameras, but she made a commitment.

 

She tries to not be heartbroken, a little, when two hours go by with nothing from him at a time she knows he’s free. 

 

*********************************************************************

 

On the red carpet, she spots Blake out of the corner of her eye. He’s posing with Miranda, who’s dressed in a beautiful pink and black outfit. They look like the king and queen of country, like they were truly the perfect couple. 

 

She can pinpoint the second he sees her too, because his face lights up (it hadn’t even struck her that it had been sad before, his smile faked, but it had been) and he makes to break away from Miranda to walk over to her. A confluence of things happen then. Miranda obviously utters some harsh words to him, holding onto his arm tight tight, his shoulders slouch and he loses his smile as he looks down at the ground, Gwen bites her lip and tries to will away the tears from her eyes, and she turns away from Blake to walk in the other direction. He’s gotta fix his marriage, and she’s gotta fix hers, and that’s that. She tells herself she’s okay with it as she walks away.

 

************************************************************************

 

She performs, and she’s fine. She hits all the notes, stays in the pocket, looks sexy onstage in her long red dress with her hair in a twist, everything. Adam is great, they get applause, they smile, they bow. Gwen tries to pretend like her heart isn’t being ripped out of her chest when she passes by Blake on the way back to her seat to get her things to leave during a commercial break and he doesn’t even look at her, instead kissing his wife on the cheek as she smiles. 

 

**************************************************************************

 

She gets home, and she’s weary. The kids are already asleep and Mindy leaves as soon as she gets home (the girl seemed so nervous around her lately, Gwen couldn’t figure out why but she knew Mindy liked Gavin better than her so she just ignored it). She takes off her makeup and puts her pajamas on, black sleep shorts and a white tank top and grabs her family’s iPad from the stand kitchen counter for the first time in a few months. It has The Golden Girls on it and she’s been dying to watch it lately (because she needs something funny and mindless, like she used to watch with her parents) and she thinks of curling up in her warm soft bed and watching a few episodes before letting herself sleep. 

 

She turns it on, entering in the passcode as she walks into her bedroom to lift the covers. Her finger hovers over the Video icon, but instead she clicks on the iMessage icon, thinking of sending one more message to Gavin before she goes to bed (because she’s determined to fix this; they can get through this, she knows they can). 

 

Except, she never sends the message, because what she sees then breaks her. She sees hundreds of messages between her nanny and her husband, messages that are NC-17 in the least and pictures too. Pictures of things Gwen never wanted to see; videos of them fucking each other. She scrolls through their long, long message history (oh my god it spans eight months) and when she sees her husband send her nanny a message about how good she tasted when he gave her oral (because Gavin had flat out refused to do it with her like that since Kingston was born; he claimed the babies changed her taste and it was unpleasant. Gwen tried everything to change it, but Gavin was unaffected, and she resigned herself to not getting it anymore. It wasn’t a lot in the scheme of things, she thought), she breaks. 

 

Before she even realizes what she’s doing, she’s thrown the $800 souped up iPad across the room, where it shatters against the marble floor. She’s on her knees then, her arms wrapped tight oh so tight around her stomach as she rocks back and forth. Then, she’s scrambling to her feet and rushing to the bathroom, emptying her stomach over and over again into the toilet bowl as tears run down her face. Her hair’s falling around her mouth and getting gross, but she can’t bring herself to care, because oh my god. She’s flushing the toilet and sinking against the wall on the floor, sobbing so hard her stomach hurts, hair in forty different directions and sweat on her chest and the taste of vomit in her mouth. 

 

She’s pulling her phone out of her pocket, barely able to see through the tears, and sends a text to her mom, her dad, her sister in law, and at the last second Blake. She doesn't even remember what it says (she’d find out later all she wrote was **_Help me_** and she’s be embarrassed). She keeps sobbing, rocking back and forth on the floor, her whole body convulsing as she spent long long minutes on the marble, chilling herself to the bone (what she didn’t know was that at that very moment Blake was pushing past his wife when his phone buzzed mid-fight with Miranda while putting on a hat and his boots over his plaid pajama pants and grabbing his keys, chugging a couple of cups of stale coffee from the coffee maker to sober up while he googled directions to Gwen’s. What she didn’t know was that her sister and mom and dad would all be sleeping, and that Blake would have five red light tickets from the automatic cameras as he sped down the roads of the Hollywood Hills at twenty-five miles over the speed limit. What she didn’t know was that Miranda sent Blake angry text after angry text, all that Blake ignored as he sped down the street with white knuckled hands. What she didn’t know is that Blake would type in the code to her front door with shaking hands before practically running through the house, encountering a stricken Zuma and Kingston with sleep still in their eyes. What she didn’t know is that he would demand to know what’s wrong and all he would be told was that Momma was sick and sobbing in the bathroom, and that they were scared. What she didn’t know was that Blake would kneel down to their level, running his hands through Zuma’s hair comfortingly and rubbing his hand over Kingston’s shoulder, telling them that he would take care of everything and that they should try to go back to bed. What she didn’t know was that Zuma would start sobbing and hug Blake tightly, burying his face in Blake’s shoulder as Blake rubbed his back. What she didn’t know was that Kingston would go to get Zuma some apple juice, his favorite, and Blake would get him to drink half the bottle before he put the child to bed, sitting with him for a couple of minutes until he fell asleep and Kingston told him that he had it from here. What she didn’t know was that Blake would practically run into Gwen’s bathroom the first chance he got, out of breath and sweating).

 

She comes to to a soft hand carding through her hair and a warm body next to hers. She’s raw and sore, surprised she’s cried herself into almost unconsciousness. She starts crying again almost as soon as she opens her eyes, and she almost buries her face in the soft plaid before she realizes who it is. She scrambles back then, pushing her hair with sick in it out of her eyes and trying to wipe away her tears. Blake is steadfast, though, sitting on the floor next to her and pulling on her arms until she’s in his lap and sobbing into his shoulder, all while he rocks them back and forth and cards his hand through the top of her head. He’s murmuring (little _shshshshh_ sounds) and she can’t help but fist her hands in his shirt, sobbing like her very soul is being wrenched from her body.

 

“Gwen… Gwen darlin’ you gonna make yourself sick,” Blake’s voice is gentle and soft in her ear, and she takes in heaving breaths in and out, practically hyperventilating. She coughs into Blake’s shirt, trying to inhale breath. His hand has rubbed up and down her back softly, encouraging her to breathe.

 

They sit like that, rocking back and forth, Gwen trying to keep breathing, keep it together, keep living and failing.

 

Her breathing finally evens out, but she stays in his arms, unable to move.

 

“ You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Blake’s voice is gentle but non-pressuring, and his hands kept that rhythmic motion up and down her back. Gwen shakes her head, and buries her nose deeper into Blake’s soft flannel. She feels Blake sigh, feels him push her hair back out of her eyes (he doesn’t even flinch at the sick in it) before wrapping his arms tight tight around her. “‘Kay then, whenever you’re ready ok?” his voice is endlessly patient, like he means it, and Gwen nods. 

 

A few minutes pass, with only the tick of the beautiful analog clock Gwen bought during a trip to Venice a couple of years ago and their soft breaths to break the silence. Gwen’s totally numb; her body like a limpet on Blake’s. It’s almost as if her system can’t take any more, like it just shut down. She feels Blake stretch his knee a little and hears an audible crack, feels Blake wince a little (just a little, he’s obviously trying not to disturb her), and pretty soon she feels his hand on the back of her neck, rubbing slightly through her hair.

 

“ Hey,” He said softly, “ Feel like washing some of the gross outta your hair?” Gwen sighs into his shirt and shakes her head, releasing the tight hold she had on Blake’s shirt (it’s wrinkled and creased deeply, and she realizes she’s been holding on with white knuckles) to run a hand through her hair. She makes a mewl of distaste and disgust (because, yuck), when she sees how tangled and ratty her hair has become, but at this moment she can’t bolster the energy to move. She moves her face up to Blake’s neck, burying her nose there (and probably snotting all over his skin the way she had his shirt; way to go Gwen) and whispering into his skin (and she probably just imagines the sharp inhale that her breath causes; she probably imagines that this is a very sensitive spot for him and that his skin practically sparks where she touches him).

 

“Will you help me wash my hair?” She whispers, and God her voice sounds pitiful. She feels Blake freeze for a second before nodding. She pushes herself away then with the strength of a thousand buffalo (it’s hard, so hard, because she wants to stay in his lap and his smell and his comforting warmth), and starts to stand up.

 

Blake stops her though with a hand on her wrist, and stands with a bit of a wince as he cracks his back. He then calmly scoops her up under her knees and her shoulders bridal style, and holds her close to his chest as he walks out of her bedroom. “ Is there somewhere you can lean your head over the sink up here?” He asks her calmly, and she stares at him with wide eyes. She nods, pointing down the hall to the right (not for the first time, she thanks God that her kid’s bedrooms were at the other end of the house (Gwen had protested when they built the place; she wanted her children as close as possible but Gavin had insisted and in this like so many other things Gwen had given in). They go into the laundry room with the huge sink, and Blake grabs one of the stools by the door before sitting her on it and pushing her head back to lean against the sink. He stops her before she gets there though, and asks, “ Towels?” Gwen points underneath the washing machine and Blake grabs two towels out of the drawer, balling one up and sticking it under Gwen’s neck and throwing the other one over his shoulder. It’s that simple gesture, that simple use of a towel to make sure she doesn’t get a neck ache or get cold from her head resting against the ceramic, that’s her undoing. Because she starts to cry again, this time silently, tears running down her face as she shuts her eyes to block out the world (but if her eyes had been open, she would have noticed his face become pained as he sees her cry, would have seen him go back into her bathroom to get her shampoo and her conditioner, opening the bottle to sniff it and letting a small smile come to his face as he realizes that that’s why her hair smells like strawberries, would have seen him slip off his cowboy boots before padding back to her with bare feet, would have seen him purse his lips at her tears as a pang went through his chest because he’d never seen her fall apart like this). 

 

Gwen comes back to earth with warm water on her hair and his large, farm roughened hands running through it. He massages her scalp as he puts the shampoo through her hair, and he rinses it carefully, cupping his hand over her eyes so as not to get any soap there. He does the conditioner the same way, but spends long long minutes massaging her scalp. Gwen, for her part, is slowly falling asleep, the stress of the day and the emotional toll of everything catching up with her. Over the buzz of the water and the gushing of her own thoughts ‘round and ‘round her head, she hears Blake’s soft drawl murmuring, “ Just relax now, it’ll be ok.” It’s the last thing she hears before her eyes slip closed and she drifts into rest.

If she’d been awake, she would have seen Blake realize she was asleep and frown down at her, squeezing water out of her hair with a towel. She would have seen him wrap the towel around her hair to keep it from dripping on her clothes, and pick her up bridal style again, letting her head rest against his shoulder. She would have seen him take her to her bedroom, laying a towel over the pillow to keep it from getting wet and covering her up. She would have seen his hand reach inches from her face to stroke her cheek, before he shook himself hard and clenched his fist into his pocket. She would have seen him turn off the lights and search through the rooms of the house until he found the kids’ rooms, checking to make sure they were all sleeping. She would have seen him grab a dining room chair, a black abstract thing, before sitting in front of her closed bedroom door, keeping watch over the rest of the house as he sat with his elbows on his hands. She would have seen him answer irate drunk text messages from Miranda, would have seen him send curt dismissive ones back.

 

When she wakes up the next morning at seven a.m, he’s gone. She can’t remember much of what happened between her and Blake, but there’s a chair outside her closed bedroom door, almost as if he’s been sitting guard all night. There’s a note, too, a paper thing scrawled in untidy capital letters.

 

HAD TO GO HOME ABOUT FIVE. ILL BE HERE IF YOU NEED ME. FOR WHATEVER.

 

She reads it, and the tears roll down her face. (because holy hell her life just changed forever and she has no earthly idea what to do now). She wants nothing more than to crawl back into bed and stay there forever, but she has too much to figure out. She straightens her shoulders, sniffs in her tears, sets her jaw. Folds the note carefully in half and puts it in her bedside table inside her journal, and goes to get her kids up for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate any and all comments :).


	7. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where it's Blake's turn to break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back everyone. Battered but back. I'm still going through some hard stuff (let's just say that being in love sometimes sucks and leave it at that), but I couldn't not keep this up. Thank you so much everyone for all of your support, I very much appreciate it. I promise after one more chapter of kind-of angst (I'm going to give you a hint as to the next chapter: go have a listen to Came Here to Forget ;)), we will proceed on to happier times.
> 
> Also, this chapter is based upon the premise that Miranda cheated. Whereas I really think it's a pretty foregone conclusion given everything we've learned, it's by no means confirmed so before you eviscerate me in the comments please keep in mind that this is fiction and I know as much as does Hollywood Life or Perez Hilton about Blake and Gwen's actual life, ok (that is to say nothing) ? Please and thank you don't leave negative comments about the whole Miranda thing.

Blake was not an angry person by nature. He didn’t really have a temper, and most of the time he figured getting angry was a big waste of time that didn’t accomplish a whole lot. All getting angry did was to make other people angrier, and to be honest he liked it when everyone just got along. He also didn’t consider himself to be a violent person by nature. He didn’t believe in it; just like anger he felt like violence jus beget more violence. He’d never in his thirty-nine years had the urge to punch someone or hit anything. If he were completely honest with himself (which usually he wasn’t because this behavior wasn’t manly), his usual response to tragedy was to cry and bury his face in the neck of the nearest available warm body of those closest to him.

 

Blake’s life wasn’t going well at the moment, if he was honest with himself. Him and Miranda had fought like tigers at one of the Grammy afterparties (over something as stupid as Blake asking if they could join Adam and Gwen for Mexican food; Miranda had told him she’d never liked Adam and even though a lot of alcohol was fueling her words they’d hurt because Adam was like his brother) and they’d fought more when they’d gotten home. Blake had brushed tears from his eyes as surreptitiously as he could as Miranda yelled and yelled. Then he’d gotten the call from Gwen, and he’d thrown back the two shots of espresso from their fancy espresso machine to sober up before driving to see her (because the desperation in her texted words had made his heart skip). He’d witnessed Gwen totally unhinged, with puke in her hair and no bra (he’d purposefully averted his eyes from her sweat soaked white shirt and no bra), snot running down her face and her entire body shivering. He’d washed her hair (because he’d always loved washing womens’ hair, it was a little weird but he found it relaxing), and calmed her kids, setting a chair outside her door and sitting staring into the night for too many hours (He’d been on the lookout for something, but he didn’t even know what).  

 

He’d finally had to leave, and the minute ehe’d gotten home he and Miranda had fought again (she’d accused him of sleeping around and Blake had scoffed, happily handing her his phone so she could scroll through it again, like she seemed to do whenever she was around him). Miranda had left for her tour (another one) in icy silence, and Blake had run his hands through his slightly greasy hair and he’d watched the door slam. He’d sniffled in the tears that always seemed to surface when he fought with Miranda (because she had a way, when she was very angry, of saying the exact thing that would hurt him the most; tonight it had been the fact that she couldn’t stand to be around him for more than ten days, even though he ached for her when she wasn’t there) and stared at the door.

 

Then, Gwen had called him. He’d swallowed and picked up the phone, and then he’d found himself angrier than he’d ever been in his life as he’d heard about Gavin. He’d listened to the numb heartbreak in her voice as she told him she confronted Gavin and found out he’d been having an affair not only with her nanny but with two other women and one man. Gwen’s voice had broken then over the phone, and Blake had clutched his iPhone with a white knuckled hand as the other hand clenched into a fist as he listened to her crying quietly over the phone. He’d been angry even as his heart clenched with pain for her, and it was only when he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his palm that he realized he’d been digging his nails into his own skin. 

 

When he’d asked Gwen what she was going to do now and she’d told him that Gavin had agreed to sit the affairs and go to counseling, Blake had felt a cold hard rage fill him, not only for Gavin but surprisingly for Gwen. Because she’d been treated like shit so many times (that Blake knew this even after not having known her very long spot volumes about how bad it probably was when she wasn’t around him, he knew) but yet she still came back, she still stayed with him (Gavin had been a shit even when Blake had met him; he’d been all smarmy coldness and sarcastic wit, standing in stark contrast to Gwen’s soft warm and goofy jokes). Blake had wanted to yell at her to wake up, had wanted her to leave her sorry excuse for a husband, wanted her to stand up for herself. But, he didn’t have the right. So, he’d listened to her cry, and he’d told her that he was there fore her for whatever, and he’d said that he hoped she worked her marriage out. And, he’d been filled with anger.

 

He wanted to punch something, wanted to beat Gavin’s face in until Gavin hurt as much as Gwen was, wanted to shout in his face until he wised up and realized that he had someone amazing (and beautiful and who smelled like strawberries and who sparkled when she smiled). But, he’d kept calm and gentle in front of Gwen, told her soft comforting words, and resolved to send her a care package of Peanut MMs and all the french fries she could eat. He told her a soft goodbye, and hit the hang up button on his phone. He sighed, deep and weary, and then, suddenly, the anger in him bubbled up. He let out a growl that he would realize in hindsight was animalistic and threw his $500 iPhone across the room as hard as he could.

 

It hit the carpeted floor of his living room, bouncing off of the oversized couch and flopping uselessly facedown on the floor. The phone acted as kind of a release for his anger, a metaphor for how pathetic and useless he felt, because he deflated, rubbing his hands roughly up and down his face as he felt his eyes fill again. He blinked his tears away roughly, letting out a deep sigh and going to pick up his phone before thinking about what he might want to have for dinner.

 

*****

 

Blake texted Gwen three times that week, each time with a simple question of how she was doing. He never received a response, and he pretended like he didn’t feel abandoned every time he checked his phone and no one was there. He wanted to pretend her felt the same way whenever Miranda didn’t get back to him, but if he said that he wasn’t being honest.

 

*****

 

He knew he was being a jackass through Season 8, he knew it. He drank way too much (the number of days he woke up hungover were more than not nowadays and he knew his mom was getting worried 0and he snapped at everyone; his temper was short for once and when he wasn’t on camera he withdrew from everyone (because people didn’t get it, people didn’t get feeling like they had so much love to give and having no one be ready to accept it, feeling so so lonely even though he was surrounded by the same people he’d always been, because he hadn’t seen his wife in two months and whenever she talked to him she seemed like she wanted to be doing anything else)

 

He was living each day in a fog, he was drinking and waking up alone and texting Miranda over and over again with nothing back, he was still not hearing from Gwen in response to his texts, and he was warring with his heart about whether to call her as opposed to just texting.

 

He was sitting in his red chair on a break from filming the battles, fiddling with his phone and trying to will away the hangover headache that lingered beneath his eyes even after four Advil. His fingers were poised over the contact screen over Gwen’s name, trying to decide whether he wanted to risk calling her and seeing how she was. His hands expertly switched over to the text screen, typing and deleting different texts, because he wanted to send her something nonchalant and cool (maybe a ‘what’s up?’ or ‘how are things?’ and not a ‘I hope you dumped that sorry British bastard because he’s a shit and doesn’t deserve you.’)

 

“Dude, what’s your problem?” Adam’s voice broke through Blake’s thoughts, and even thought iw as soft so it couldn’t be heard the sound still shattered Blake’s daydream and made him cranky.

 

“What the hell you talkin’ about?” Blake said back, jaw set and voice tensed. Adam, standing love him, crossed his arms, his eyes hard.

 

The minute they got backstage, Blake’s boots making ominous clacks on the hard floor, Adam turned on him after looking around to make sure no one was listening.

 

“ You,” Adam said sharply, poking him in the chest, “ Need to fucking stop with this Gwen shit.” Blake crossed his arms, glaring his coldest down at Adam.

 

“ What the fuck are ya talkin’ about?! I’m not doing anything!” Blake recognized in the back of his mind that his voice was raised, but he couldn’t help it, because that same anger was back (the one that had made him want to bash Gavin’s face in and the one that made him throw his phone across the room).

 

Adam scoffed, motioning with one of his hands to the phone that was in the other. “ This, Blake! This texting her all the time and acting the way you did when you met Miranda!” Adam was yelling now too. 

 

“ You didn’t even know me when I fucking met Miranda!!!” Blake yelled back, and Adam stared up at him, his jaw set.

 

“ I heard fucking stories!!!” Adam shouted. He sighed then, but his eyes were still angry. “ Look, I didn’t want to tell you this even though Gwen told me to because I usually like you you absolute jackass but ..” Blake’s eyes widened as soon as Adam said Gwen and he made another grab for the phone, this one a little bit manic. 

 

“ What about Gwen?” He recognized his voice as being a little manic (he hoped that any stagehands lurking around didn’t think he’d completely lost it). Adam glared at him, his jaw working as his mouth shut.

 

“ See, this?! This, obsession you have with her?! This is why I fucking have to tell you!” Adam shouted, and then deflated again. “ Gwen’s been ignoring you.” As soon as Adam said it, the metaphorical floor under Blake’s feet fell out from under him. He knew his mouth was opening, knew that his heart was stuck with a sharp sharp pain, but he forced himself to shut up and listen. “ She…. she told me that she needs to work on her marriage and that she needs to not talk to you to do that,” Blake felt his hands tremble, a little (just a little, because even though he was falling apart he was made of stronger stuff than that). “ I’m…. i’m supposed to delete her number from your phone.” Adam’s voice was soft and pitying, and Blake felt his eyes fill. There was a huge lump in his throat. 

 

“ Adam… no…” He made a half hearted yet desperate grab for the phone, and he recognized his voice as being soft and broken and pathetic. Adam looked at him with pity filled eyes, with eyes that told him he understood (and arms that would probably hug him if he fell apart like he wanted to). Adam swiped at his phone a few times, deleting the information (as Blake’s heart stuttered with each swipe). A tear ran down Blake’s face, and he roughly wiped it away as he stared at Adam with wide wide eyes. 

 

Adam gripped the phone tightly for a second before handing it back to Blake, who took it without a word. “ Sorry,” Adam said, moving to come closer to Blake. Blake stepped away though, feeling that anger fill him again. 

 

“ Tell them I need five,” Blake said roughly, turning around and walking towards his trailer. His hands were clenched, his gait unsteady and stilted, and he turned as he got to the doorway between the backstage area and the trailers. “Adam?” Blake said as he turned (because even though he knew he’d regret what he was about to say later right now he couldn’t stop himself because Adam just took away a huge piece of his hope). Adam nodded at him, still with that pitying gaze. “ Fuck you.” The words were sharp, and Adam’s eyes hardened as Blake walked away.

 

Over the next few months they would talk only for the cameras, and if their barbs were more pointed, if their competitiveness was a little too mean to be good natured, than that was their business, and no one would answer questions about it. 

 

*****

Funny, though, when it came time for Blake to really be angry, he wasn’t. Maybe he was numb from everything, maybe the well of tears he’d cried in the bathroom of his trailer leaning over the sink after he and Adam had their fight (because he didn’t ever remember crying like this, not since Richie died) had moistened any anger for the foreseeable future, he didn’t know. 

 

He didn’t even know he was surprised, because Miranda had withdrawn from him and he from her. He stopped texting her so much, spent a lot of time alone (when in reality he hated to be alone), went through the motions on the show and went home and went to sleep with his lips wrapped around a bottle. 

 

The very fact that Miranda came to LA for once should have been his first clue. She called him on the phone, talking about having to come for a couple of meetings with her agent, telling him she would be there the next day. Despite everything, he still missed her, so he smiled widely and tidied up the house, already tasting the spicy sharp taste of her lips and the musk of her perfume. He pictured holding her in his arms again, and for the first time in a long time he felt somewhat hopeful. Because him and Miranda fought and fought, but they always worked it out and realized they loved each other. This time would be no different.

 

He meets her at the airport and gathers her up in his arms, and surprisingly she goes without a fight, wrapping her arms uncharacteristically tightly around him. His breath stutters a little but he goes, feeling the pieces of his heart slot into place again. In that moment, everything with Gwen and Adam, how miserable he felt fell away in favor of her smell and her hair and her curves against him again. 

 

They go to the house, and Blake cooks her her favorite meal (one of the things he finds so endearing about her is that she can’t cook anything; if it were up to her they would live on Cheetos and Jack Daniels, but he loves to cook). It’s as Blake’s taking the dishes to the dishwasher, looking at Miranda all Rum and Coke flushed and slightly tussle haired ( he decides that he's going to start kissing her in a about five seconds, dishes be damned), that she touches his elbow, motioning him to sit at the high top stools at their kitchen island. She looks deadly serious, and he narrows his eyes, but can’t help reaching out to run his hands through her hair (even though he knows she hates it), his palm following a path down to her cheek and to the back of her neck. Again, she doesn’t push him away where she usually would, and he is even more confused.

 

“ I need to talk to ya,” Miranda’s Texas accent says softly. Her eyes are filled with something Blake can’t name, and Blake nods, smiling softly at her.

 

“ ‘Bout what Darlin’?” Blake asks, taking her in. She takes a deep breath. 

 

“ I slept with someone.” Her voice is emotionless and flat, totally empty of tears or pain or anything else indicating strong emotion. Blake shakes his head a little, not sure he heard her right (because no no she didn’t actually say that like she was saying she felt like steak for dinner, right?) 

 

“W—what?” Blake asks, and his voice cracks like a little boy. His hand falls down from where it was rubbing the back of her neck, and it hangs uselessly in the air before falling to his lap and clenching on his knee.

 

“ I slept with someone. Just once, and it won’t happen again.” Miranda’s voice is matter of fact, and she stares at Blake with dry eyes. Blake, in contrast, feels his eyes fill to the brim with tears, and his heart starts to pound huge and fast in his chest. There’s a rushing in his ears, and he stares at her; with tears in his eyes but they don’t fall.

 

He must stare at her for a full minute, the sound of the clock in the kitchen the only thing breaking the oppressive silence of the room. Miranda’s looking at him expectantly, like she expects him to say something. And he wants to; but he's so surprised at himself. Because he’s not angry. He’s not; he’s hurt and wants to curl into a ball (because despite what the tabloids say he’d never ever cheated) and wants to get drunk until he forgets all of this, but he can’t do anything. He’s not angry.

 

Before he realizes what he’s doing ,he’s wrapping her in his arms, putting his hands on her tense back and tucking her face into his neck.

 

“ I forgive you,” He finds himself saying (even though if he thought about what he might do in this situation this is the last thing; what he would do he thought involved a lot more anger).

 

They go to bed in separate rooms, and Blake lies awake until almost four a.m., feeling those tears in his eyes that he doesn’t cry.

 

Miranda leaves again the next morning, and as he watches her leave, he doesn’t cry.

 

*****

 

He Tweets support for Miranda all the time, and she never Tweets support for him or his show. He tries to pretend he doesn’t want the validation, and fails. He looks tired and sick on the Voice, and no one mentions it, like the unspoken question hanging over all of their heads. He does his job, goes home, sleeps, wakes up.

 

*****

 

The finale isn’t good for him. Blake doesn’t put his usual effort into it, and he’s so alone. Him and Adam still aren’t talking, he doesn’t have Gwen (and he misses their conversation, but sometimes he thinks this is better, even as he hates Gavin’s guts he hopes they’re working everything out), Miranda and he have been exchanging formal stilted text messages and chatter.

 

Sawyer wins, and even though Blake thinks he’s good his heart is not in the congratulations he gives to him. His heart isn’t in anything, lately. He’s flying to Nashville to see Miranda in two days, and they’re going to talk and work things out and Blake’s going to make good as he can on his promise to forgive her. Because he believes in commitment, still wants the white picket fence and the three children and the huge family that he can sit down to Thanksgiving dinners with. He’s going to bring up kids again with Miranda (for the fortieth time) and try to talk her into them with the promise that he’ll be the stay at home dad while she tours like she likes to.

 

He’s putting a bag together in his trailer of the things he’s going to want over the next few weeks. He’s performing with her at a festival that weekend and then in two weeks he’s gotta be back to film the blind auditions for Season 9 (it’s still not confirmed who the judging panel is, he knows its Adam Pharell and him but he doesn’t know whether Gwen agreed again and he doesn’t know whether he wants to know. He hasn’t talked to her in a month and a half and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he sees her again).

 

There’s a knock on his trailer door, and he rolls up his favorite pair of jeans and sticks it in the corner of his duffel bag before distractedly saying, “ Come in.” He looks around, one hand in his pocket and the other holding onto the hat that has yet to go on his head. He sighs, deep and weary.

 

“ Hi,” The voice is soft and meek, and Blake’s head snaps up to see Adam standing there with his hands in his pockets. Blake sets his jaw and looks at him, feeling pain suffuse through his features. Because he hasn’t been able to go to Adam for all of this, even though all he wants to do is bury his face in the crook of Adam’s neck and cry (because they were touchy and always had been, hell it wasn’t manly but it was their relationship). 

 

“ Hi,” Blake says back, voice flat. Adam fidgets, his ADHD making itself known as he’s unable to just stand still. In contrast, Blake is completely still, hands stuffed in his pockets, gaze hard on Adam’s. He waits, and just as he thought, Adam finally breaks.

 

“ Are we going to be pissed off at each other for the rest of our lives?” Adam finally says, throwing up his hands, his voice frustrated. Blake shrugs, digging his toe into the carpet of his trailer a little. “ You look sad dude,” Adam finally said, his voice soft and curious. Blake suddenly felt tears fill his eyes, and he looked away and back down to his bag, swiping at the with his hand and fiddling around with the stuff in the duffel uselessly.

 

He sighed down at the bag, trying to will the tears away with all the strength he possessed. Adam was suddenly right there, and his hand was on Blake’s shoulder.  “ Hey,” Adam said, squeezing the top of Blake’s shoulder, “ Whatsa matter?” Blake shook his head, his shoulders slouching. Suddenly, Adam was pulling him into one of his patented bear hugs, and Blake sank into it with a shaky sigh, nosing into Adam’s shoulder and taking in a deep breath. He allowed himself a few seconds of comfort from the man he considered a brother before breaking away, smiling good naturedly at Adam and trying to will the lump in his chest away.

 

“ You gonna go see your model wife over the break?” He asked, willing Adam to drop it with his eyes. Adam nodded then, his own shoulders slouching a little bit ( _message received_ his shoulders said), and Blake ruffled Adam’s hair, ignoring his indignant squawk. “ Drinks?” Blake asked, and Adam nodded, motioning towards his car and telling Blake to get in. 

 

 

*******

 

Blake would remember the exact day as long as he lived. He would remember May 26th, 2015, 7 p.m., their house in Nashville. Although they didn’t perform together the night before, Blake had raved about her, because she looked awesome and sounded even better onstage. He watched her from the sidelines, feeling his heart fill with love for how badass and wonderful she was, despite the mistakes she’d made (in his heart of hearts he wondered how he forgave her so fast but he did, no matter what. It was one mistake, and everyone made mistakes). He performed his heart out and sounded great. They’d gotten home and had wonderful familiar sex, and Miranda had even let him hold her at the end of the night, something which she didn’t usually like because she got too hot.

 

She’d been snippy though sometimes, when they weren't making love. He couldn’t seem to do anything right, when he tried to make her breakfast she scolded him and told him she was on a diet. When he tried to wrap his arms around her waist from behind, she'd slapped his hands away. When he'd asked her what she thought of his Voice contestants for the past season, she'd smiled flatly at him and had said, " You know I don't watch your little show, hell if I know."

 

Despite this (because that's how she'd been the past year and a half, if he was honest), Blake thought things were great. The next day they spent seeing their friends around Nashville and walking down the streets together. Blake enjoyed the summer sun on his face and thought about maybe going on vacation with her, or at least proposing the idea. Maybe Mexico, where they could relax and enjoy each other’s company and sit by the beach somewhere (and he could convince her that she didn’t need to stray and that he was enough for her). They’d been getting ready to go out with Reba and her husband, and Blake’s phone was acting up. It had been deleting random contacts lately and turning off and back on, and he needed to text Reba that they were running ten minutes late (because Miranda was still curling her hair; she’d been taking more time with her appearance lately than she ever had before and he wondered what else he missed about her while she was on tour all of the time). 

 

“ Hey Ran? I’m gonna look in your phone for Reba’s number my damn phone deleted it again,” He said distractedly as he picked up her black iPhone from where it sat on the nightstand. There wasn’t a password and he clicked it on, his thumb moving to what he thought was where she always put the contact screen. Only, it wasn’t the contact screen (because she’d switched the layout of all her apps and he didn’t realize), and it pulled up the text messages instead. 

 

“ Blake w—-“ Miranda’s panicked words didn’t even register to him, because what he saw in her text messages made him freeze as the floor dropped out from under him yet again. Because the top text messages, the top three in fact, were all from different men. Like he was in a bad dream, he clicked through them, seeing the dirty pictures and the naughty words on both sides reflected back at him. Worse still, two of them were people he knew and considered friends (hell he’d seen one of them two days ago). One of the messages was an agreement to meet tomorrow.

 

Blake did the next things in a fog. He felt the phone drop from his hand onto the ground where it hit with a soft thunk, registered Miranda’s near run into the bedroom, registered his hands frozen open like he was still holding the phone. His head slowly came up to stare at her. She was panicked and her eyes were wide, her face pale as soon as she realized that he had seen the messages. 

 

“ Blake….” She started to say, and he held up a hand. It shook from where it was raised at his eye level, and he she shut her mouth, staring at him. The silence between them was charged for a few minutes before Blake turned on his heel and walked out. He ignored Miranda running behind him as he grabbed the keys to his truck and opened the door, slamming it behind him, hopping in his pickup, and speeding out of the driveway, heading towards his favorite lake. 

 

He drove in a fog until he got to a lesser known parking area by the lake where he killed the car and opened the sun roof, looking up at the star filled night. He didn’t even recognize there were tears streaming down his face until he felt salt in his mouth, and he wiped them away with the palm of his hands in an effort to stop them, but they just kept coming. They dripped down his neck and onto his collar, and he stopped trying to wipe them away, just looking up at the night.

 

“ Oh fucking god,” He heard himself murmur brokenly, and then he was sobbing, huge wracking things that made him feel like he was drowning in the lake as his shoulders shook. In that moment, all he wanted was to wrap his mom’s arms around him, he wanted to be a little boy again with his big brother there and his mom and his dad and a happy happy family. He wanted safety and warmth and love, not this cold dark night in Nashville feeling like he didn’t have anyone in the world. 

 

He sat in the truck for over an hour, alternating between punching the steering wheel as hard as he could and sobbing into the night. In a moment of lucidity (as he tried to catch his breath, because he recognized the signs of him having a panic attack and he needed to calm it down before it went into full blown mode because he’d seen Adam have these and they usually warranted a trip to the ER and he didn’t have anyone to take him to the ER and oh god that started it again), he grabbed his iPhone from where he’d haphazardly thrown it on the passenger seat. He ignored the texts from Miranda (but couldn’t help but see the _Blake please,_ and _We have to talk about this,_ and _Where are you??_ But all he wanted to say was fuck you and he didn’t want to do that so he didn’t). He couldn’t have his Mom because she was in Oklahoma, but he could have the next best thing. 

 

“ C-can…” His voice cracked as the person on the other end of the phone said _Hello,_ and broke, his breaths coming in and out roughly. He tried to slow his breathing, his grip loose on the phone and his body shaking. “ Can I come over? ‘Ran….oh fuck,” He broke into sobs again, doubling over against the steering wheel. “ No, I can d-drive… ok.” He paused, listening to the other end, “ Out by Gull Lake, on the west side,” He stuttered out, nodding to the voice, “ Yeah, ok.” He hung up the phone, and threw it back on the passenger seat, sniffling in his tears as best as he was able.

 

His shoulders still shook though, still shook through the thirty minutes it took for the large F150 to arrive at where he was. Even as he recognized the car, his shoulders still shook, and he rested his forehead on his hands on the steering wheel, as heeled cowboy boots and Levi’s stepped out of the truck. He didn’t look up, even as his drivers side door open and large hand made its way onto his back, rubbing up and down.

 

“ Hey naw… what’s goin’ on?” The voice was deep and gravely, and Blake sunk into the hand. He unbuckled his seatbelt, turning with his legs out of the car to wrap his arms around a broad back and sink his head into a shoulder that smelled like cigarettes and pine. He sobbed then in the arms of Trace Adkins that night for an hour, in between telling him the story and staring into Trace’s big fire pit outside.

 

*****

 

The fog was back over the next two weeks. With a raised voice filled visit back to the house (Blake had been staying with Trace, playing with his enormous hound dogs and lying in bed until noon, getting up to hunt and fish and taking long walks through the woods),  Trace had gone in first and whatever he’d said to Miranda had been enough to keep her away from Blake at first until he’d gotten a bag full of his stuff. The visit, with the house full of their stuff and Blake’s third favorite guitar and pictures of the two of them, brought more tears to Blake’s eyes, so he’d gone as quickly as he could, resolving to just buy more clothes. It was as he was walking out the door that Miranda stopped him with a hand on his arm. He ripped it away like he’d been stung, and she crossed her arms, looking up at him.

 

“ Can we talk about this?” She asked, leaning against the doorframe of the front door. Blake avoided her eyes, zipping up his bag and taking it on hand while putting on his baseball cap with the other. He finally looked at her as he stood on the other side of the doorframe.

 

“ There’s nothin’ to say,” Blake said tensely, tucking his hair behind his ears.

 

“ Blake…” Miranda began, starting towards him, but he held up a hand. 

 

“ I’m gonna put in the papers and we can decide how we’re filin’ but we’re filin’.” He said, and then he had to look away from her, because his eyes were filling again (one would think that after two weeks of crying at the most random things, like a stupid Jeff Buckley song on the radio or the way her scent had begun to come off of her favorite shirt of his to wear that he’d been wearing when he left). He steeled his jaw and went outside to where Trace was standing by his truck. Trace had a concerned fatherly expression until saw Miranda, and his eyes hardened in the blink of an eye (and Blake was reminded of how scary Trace could be sometimes; he was a big bear of a man and he wasn’t afraid to use his height to his advantage). He stood with his legs slightly apart, his arms crossed, staring Miranda down. He virtually growled when Miranda tried to follow Blake to the passenger side, blocking her path.

 

“ If you know what’s good for ya ya gonna turn ‘round and walk back into the house,” Trace rasped. Blake, for his part, got into the car, slouching down in the seat and totally ignoring them. Trace was staring her down, all intimidating country biker, and Miranda stared back for a second before turning around and walking back into the house. 

 

Trace got in the car then, slamming the drivers side door and starting the engine. He turned to look at Blake up and down.

 

“ Ya alright son?” Trace asked, and Blake laughed bitterly, shaking his head and biting his lip, turning to look out the window of the house he’d see for the last time (because there was no way he was gonna keep it; the fact that he found out in it already rendered it poisonous to him. He already knew he was going to ask for the ranch in Oklahoma and get a new place in LA; she could have the Nashville house). 

 

“ No,” Blake answered honestly. Trace sighed and turned on Johnny Cash down low, as he reversed out of the dirt road and drove back to his house in charged silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd appreciate any comments that you have! I had to get a lot into this chapter to be able to take the story where I want it to go, so I hope it wasn't too "snapshot"- like for anyone's tastes.


	8. Forgetting and Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Blake and Gwen begin to move again, and begin to realize they've been in sync all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your support and comments, guys. This chapter does not deal with the Came Here to Forget situation yet; I felt that I needed to do a little more set up and then start the scene as it were in the next chapter. I hope you can forgive me for lying to you about that one ;). It's interesting how much of your personal life ends up in your writing. Let's just say that when you find someone you're so in sync with like these two are it's really amazing.

The building seemed different somehow this time around. Maybe it as because this time Gwen knew what to expect, maybe it’s because Gwen knew who was in there, maybe it’s because she was coming back a separated woman on her way toward being a divorced one, she didn’t know. But it seemed different. Daunting, big, full of emotions she couldn’t name and feelings she couldn’t suppress. 

 

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingertips and sighed, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder. She gnawed on the inside of her lip, willing away the tears that seemed to be ever present these days and come at the drop of an inexplicable hat. 

 

“ Hi Boo,” A soft voice said behind her, and she made an about-face to see Pharell staring at her with a soft, indulgent expression. Gwen had texted him what was going on, and he’d sent back a gentle _Whenever or wherever you need me i’ll be there._ She smiled a watery soft smile at him and he pulled her into a soft hug that she sank into with a sniffle. He stroked her hair, and she was reminded why they were such close friends. “ How are you?” He asked gently, She laughed ironically, nosing against his shoulder and trying to cry as neatly as she could. 

 

“ I mean…” She said, watery, and he patted her back. Suddenly, she pulled back, roughly wiping at her face with her hands and trying to shake herself out of her sudden melancholy. “ Glad I finally threw his ass out,” she said softly, and Pharell didn’t react, simply nodding at her. They stood outside for a minute, listening to the sounds of cars going by on the road, enjoying the mid afternoon sun. Gwen fidgeted, looking to Pharell and then back at the studio, to Pharell and the studio alternately. She cleared her throat, digging her toe a little into the concrete of the sidewalk. “How is everyone?” She asked, hoping and yet not hoping that Pharell knew what she meant (because what she wanted to say was ‘how is he? God I’m sorry i’m sorry that I ever let my bastard of a soon-to-be ex-husband convince me that I needed to stop texting him and delete my number from his phone to save our marriage, when he was screwing other women and men up until the day I tossed him out even though he told me he’d stopped’). 

 

Pharell sighed, looking away from Gwen and up at the building. “ Everyone’s… good.” He stopped for a minute, and Gwen’s shoulders slouched, figuring he didn't get her meaning. 

“ Blake and Adam had some huge blow up fight I guess mid-season because they barely talked to each other and when they did they were, like, throwing barbs at each other that were mean, G.” Gwen’s eyes widened, and she felt her eyes start to fill again. Because she had a feeling that she knew why (or at least part of the reason why) they had the fight they did, and for the fiftieth time in weeks, she feels guilty. 

 

“D…” She has to clear her throat because her voice cracks,” Do you know why they fought?”  She feels her heart pound in her ears. 

 

Pharell shakes his head, and she lets out a huge breath, not sure whether she feels better or worse for Pharell not knowing. “ No, they wouldn’t tell us. Just sat there, like glaring at each other the whole time, with Blake looking like someone kicked his puppy.” Gwen tries her best to swallow back her tears, and nods at him. Pharell looks at the studio then, and motions with his hand and with his head. “Well, why don’t we go in? Lemme know if you need a sec or something and i’ll get us out of there.” She smiles at Pharell, grateful.

 

“Thanks boo,” She says sweetly, smiling at him. He smiles back and holds the door open for her. 

 

They’re only three minutes early, practically on time, but neither Blake or Adam is there yet. She furrows her brow, because although punctuality is not Adam’s strong suit she’d never in the year she’d known him seen Blake be late (one of her favorite things about him, in fact, was how seriously he took his job. He was always on time, always followed the rules, and always made sure that people knew how much they were appreciated). 

 

She sank uneasily into the board room chair, coincidentally the same spot that she’d been in the year before (though the coincidence didn’t hit her until later that night, when she was alone in bed because Gavin had the kids for the week and they were house hunting; she would stay up half the night and couldn’t sleep partly from loneliness and partly from the thoughts rushing like a river through her head). She pulled out her notebook out of her messenger bag, staring off into space a little as she tapped her pen absentmindedly against the tabletop.

 

It wasn’t until Pharell nudged her with his chair a little that she jolted out of her daydream, and she caught the tail end of Pharell’s whispered statement, “….. at him, holy hell.” She looked up, and through her spot facing the doorway she felt her mouth fall open. Because Blake had come in with Adam. Adam looked the same, all goofy rocker and messy brown hair, but Blake. Blake looked, for lack of a better phrase (at least she couldn’t come up with one at the moment) _dull._ His shoulders were scrunched into themselves; her neck hurt even looking at the tension that ran up the top of his shoulders and the sides of his neck. His hair was messy and slightly greasy under a beaten camo baseball cap, a wrinkled black shirt and jeans that had seen better days adorning his long long legs (hell even his legs looked shorter; Gwen didn’t know how it was possible but they did). His face, far from his usual smile, bore a dejected solemn expression, grey scruff on his face like Gwen had never seen before. His eyes, usually a beautiful brilliant aquamarine, were like the sea during a storm, cloudy and grey. 

 

What got Gwen the most, though, was his weight. Blake had always been big (but he carried it well, Gwen thought; he was so tall that it just liked like he was supposed to weigh that much, and Gwen knew he loved his comfort food), but he’d lost probably twenty pounds and looked sick. He was all wilted string bean, and he virtually shuffled slowly into the room (so far from his usual gentle no nonsense gait) before sinking into a chair next to Adam on the other side of the board room, as far from Gwen as humanly possible (Gwen remembered when he had moved his stuff to sit right next to her, writing those silly jokes in her notebook and making her laugh like a class clown in school, and the fact that it was so different now broke her heart a little). Gwen followed him with her eyes (he wouldn’t meet hers, she saw him look for a millisecond out of the corner of his eye before they firmly fixed on the tabletop), and it wasn’t until Pharell nudged her again that she realized how blatantly she was staring. 

 

Adam, from where he was sitting then next to Blake (close enough to touch, and Gwen saw him rest his entire arm against the bottom of Blake’s with his hand in a proprietary position on the back of Blake’s chair), shot Gwen the most thunderous look she’d probably ever seen, his eyes all hellfire and promising retribution if she so much as looked in Blake’s direction. Gwen once again felt her eyes fill, and her head slipped down to the tabletop to stare blearily at the date she’d written at the top of the notebook page. 

 

“ Ok folks, let’s get started,” Mark’s voice interrupted the silent drama, but the tension was like a thick fog, unable to be cut with a sharp knife or a bright light. Gwen sighed, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands a little. _This is going to be a long season,_ she thought, trying her best to tune in to what Mark was saying but can’t help but see his haunted dull face in her minds eye, as true as a picture to who was actually sitting across from her.

 

*****

 

After the meeting, Gwen brings a couple boxes of stuff out to her trailer for the season (like pictures of her kids and a couple pairs of her favorite comfy shoes and her stash of tea). She stands in the doorway of her trailer, smiling a little, because its just the way she remembered it. White walls, grey carpet, a couple of plush couches and a huge dressing table. She takes in a deep breath in, and out. This is going to be good, she knows it.

 

She sets up the space with her stuff and throws the empty boxes in the recycling, walking over to the auditorium itself. Something is drawing her to the space, she wants to see the red chairs and get psyched for the season. Her heels click on the hard surface, and she pulls out her phone, ready to use the flashlight up to find her way to the sound booth, but instead she finds the lights on low, only the coaches chairs illuminated by low light below them. She furrows her brow and walks over near to the chairs, far stage right. 

 

A figure in the farthest stage right chair makes her jump and almost scream, and she throws a hand to her chest, panicking for a second. “ Jesus!” She gasps, and then squints. Because, although it’s very dark still in the auditorium and she can’t see above his knees with the low level of lighting he’s obviously turned on, its unmistakably Blake (because no one has legs like that, or wears that specific pair of mahogany brown alligator boots). She walks up towards the stage, to his left hand side until she can finally see him. He’s resting with both elbows on the little table in front of his chair, his chin on his hands, staring mindlessly (and _dully, dimly, depressingly,_ her brain usefully supplies) at the stage. If he knows she’s there, he makes no mention of it, simply staring up at that stage like it held all the answers for the things he didn’t know. So, she resists the urge to babble nonsensically like she always does, but instead stands next to him, her hands clenching and unclenching around the phone still held in her hand and the tension between them charged.

 

Long minutes passed before someone broke the silence. Gwen was opening her mouth, ready to virtually grovel at his feet to beg him to forgive her for basically ending their friendship (to describe their relationship as friendship though seemed too simple somehow, but she didn’t know why), when he spoke, his voice hoarse and low (and oh hell even his voice sounded dull, what the fuck had happened to him?)

 

“Sometimes I wonder if this is worth it,” He says lowly, his body unmoving and his eyes never leaving the stage. Her head turned to look at him, and she furrowed her brow.

 

“What is?” Gwen said, her own voice cracking. Blake sighed, then, a sigh so full of exhaustion (and Gwen could relate; she’d never been more exhausted in her entire life), and motioned with a lax hand towards the stage.

 

“ This show. Eight months outta the year here, doin’ season after season. No one’s been super successful ‘cause of that damn record deal they get, and maybe ‘cause….” Blake’s voice breaks and Gwen hears him clear his throat and then cough for a second before opening his mouth to speak again. “ maybe cause we’re not good enough to get them doin’ what they wanta be doin’,” His drawl is heavy, his voice low, but Gwen doesn’t register that so much as his words, her mouth opening in shock as she turns her whole body to face him, taking a step towards his body (she sees him tense a little at her moving closer and her heart hurts).

 

“ You can’t be serious,” She says, and Blake doesn’t look at her, merely rests his forehead on his clasped hands for a minute before going back to resting his chin on them and looking back at the stage with that same dead expression. His eyes are a little sparkly, and she realizes that tears are in them, and her heart is crushed a little (because how did this happy silly goofy man turn into this?) “ Blake, you’re like, the best coach in this whole show. Why do you think you’ve won so many times? You care about these kids like so much, and you, like, connect with them in a way i’ve never seen before. I know you helped Jolene get enough money to stay here and fed her when she ran out of money for food even though her foster parents cut off their support to get her to come back, and I know you took Dia on tour with you even though you didn’t have to and she wasn’t even, like, in your wheelhouse. You work harder than any of us combined. One of these days one of these kids is going to make it, and it’s probably going to be some great country kid from your team who will owe all of their success to you.” She’s a little out of breath from her rant, and her voice has risen to a firm matter of fact pitch, but she needs him to believe this (because even though she doesn’t believe in herself much anymore, doesn’t believe in a lot except God and her kids, she needs him to believe that he’s wonderful, he’s amazing, he’s incredible). 

 

She looks at his face for real, and for the first time he’s looking right at her. His eyes are wide as saucers, and his mouth is slightly open, and hands are frozen in midair. She sees him swallow, swallow again, his hands trembling slightly, before looking up at her in a way that reminds her a little bit of Kingston when he’s done something wrong and feels guilty about it. 

 

“ You really think so?” He asks, his voice all little boy (he sounds like he’s never heard for real how amazing he is, and Gwen wants to punch the people who haven’t told him because he deserves to be told). She walks around so she’s facing the front of his chair then, and rests her hands on the edges of his table, leaning down to meet his eyes.

 

“ I’m honest, even when it kinda screws me over and embarrasses me like it is right now.” She grins a little self deprecatingly, but he doesn’t grin back. Instead, his shoulders slouch deeper than Gwen’s seen them slouch before, and his face crumples. His shoulders start to shake, and then he’s sobbing into his hands, his cries soft but heartbroken (it’s almost like he’s cried so much and is almost all dry but his heart still wants him to cry). Gwen’s heart plummets, and before she realizes what she’s doing (because personal space be damned; they’d hugged before and she’d never seen anyone so in need of a hug as Blake Shelton was right now) she's cupping her arms around his shoulders and leaning down awkwardly, pulling his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder and running a hand through his hair. He stiffens at first in surprise, but then sinks into it, clutching her back so tightly she imagines she’ll have fingerprint shaped marks there the next day.

 

Unlike the time with his brother, this crying only lasts a couple of minutes before he’s pulling away, wiping furiously at his eyes (he looks almost angry, but Gwen doesn’t know why). It isn’t until he’s giving a disgusted look at his wet hands that she realizes it’s because he’s angry at himself for crying. “ God i’m so sick of cryin’” He said brokenly, sniffling in his tears. He pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and blows his nose, wiping at his eyes with the other end. “ And now i’m turnin’ into someone who needs to bring a fuckin’ handkerchief with them like some eighty year old man ‘cause I can’t stop.” He smiled halfheartedly at Gwen, but Gwen didn’t smile back, instead leaning her body against the side of his chair. She takes his hand then and pulls him out of his chair (the surprise at her movements let her do it easily), and takes him to sit on the stairs coming down from the judges chairs, where there’s still light and she can be on his level. She squeezes his hand in both of hers, and he squeezes back tightly, looking down at the floor.

 

“ What’s going on?” She asked him softly, running her fingertips up and down his. He slumped, his legs going a little limp, and sniffled again. He sighed, deep and weary, and she sees him swallow before he speaks

 

“ ‘Ran and I are gettin’ a divorce.” The words surprise Gwen and yet don’t at the same time; she’d met Miranda a couple of times and if she were completely honest the woman seemed totally unsuited to Blake’s goofy, happy-go-lucky personality. Plus, she’d heard from Blake about how much trouble they’d been having. She opens her mouth to say something (maybe _i’m sorry_ , or something else that you say at times like these), but Blake speaks again before she has a chance to.

“ She…. “ His voice breaks, and he inhales a shaky breath, “ She cheated on me. Many times in fact, even though she told me she was stoppin’. ’N I just…. couldn’t take it anymore. I mean I let the fuckin’ woman look through my phone whenever she wants!”  Blake’s voice is rising and Gwen winces a little, “ I was always so fuckin’ honest with her, and this is what she does to me in return!” He deflates again from his anger and sighs into the stage. Gwen’s hand moves to his shoulder, squeezing the top of it gently. He leans into it (he’s always be so freaking touch starved, it seems like), and she swallows herself before talking.

 

“ Gavin and I are divorcing too,” Blake’s head snaps up and he looks at her, rapt, as she speaks, 

“ So, like, I found him cheating with all those pictures with Mindy and all of those other people right?” Blake nods, “And I was stupid enough to think that he was going to stop when he told me he was going to right after we had that fight that we had. We set up more counseling and I let Mindy keep her job because the kids loved her and he told me he’d stop. Well, I looked in his phone for like, the number to the vet so I could take the dog there, and I found more text messages, not just to Mindy but to other men and women too, different ones than before. Even as he told me he was stopping, even as he told me he was working on our marriage and blaming the whole end of our marriage on him feeling, like, less of a man ‘cause of my success, he was fooling around,” Her voice is watery at the end, and she shakes her head, wiping tears out of the corner of her eyes. “ So I threw his fucking ass out. I’m so tired of crying too,” She says, her shoulders slouching. Instead of doing what she expects him to, which is pull her into a hug or rub her arm (because he gives the best hugs, she’s only been privy to a few but she knows they’re great and is looking forward to being able to rub her face against his flannel), he’s frozen for a second before he’s laughing, semi-hysterical and booming. He waves his hands at her, shaking his head before she can get offended.

 

“S-sorry,” He says through his laughter, “ That’s just pretty much exactly what happened with me and Miranda. Like exactly,” Gwen’s eyebrows raise, and she begins to smile too ,because this whole thing is insane, “ Millions of cheaters in the world and we were both single white femaled by our own spouses.” The irony hits Gwen then too, and then she’s laughing just as hysterically. They’re leaning against each other, laughing and laughing, until it finally dies off. Both of them are wiping the tears of mirth out of their eyes (and maybe tears for a different reason too, but like they said they’re done with that). 

 

Gwen looks at him, her face suddenly embarrassed and apologetic. “ Can I say i’m sorry for the whole deleting my number off your phone thing?” Blake’s face clouds, and he looks back down at the ground for a second before nodding, “ It was so cowardly and I know that, and i’m so so so sorry. I’m not trying to, like, make excuses or anything, but it was a condition of Gavin and I working our marriage out, because Gavin said he felt jealous because of the fact that I was talking so much to a man I had no reason to. Funny for him to say that when he was playing the field faster than, like, a NFL Quarterback.” She chuckles at her own uneducated football reference, and Blake smiles a little. It’s his turn to squeeze her hand, so he does. 

 

They meet each other’s eyes, and Blake’s eyes tell her _it’s okay,_ and _I forgive you,_ and _I missed you._ What he says though is a teasing, “ Running backs run. Quarterbacks—“He starts to say, and then Gwen interrupts him with a crook of her eyebrow.

 

“Quarter?” She says with a little smile, and he laughs, a real non hysterical one this time. He waves a hand at her. 

 

“Close enough,” He says, still laughing. She smiles (for the first time in too long). He looks at his watch then, and sighs, saying, “ Well, Adam’s probably sending the guard out for me. I told him i’d take an Uber to his house but that was like half hour ago. I’m stayin’ there until we get this place sold in LA and I can rent somethin’ else.”  Gwen stands then too, and they look back up at the stage.

 

“This?” Gwen motions to the stage and to everything, “ Is totally freaking worth it.” Blake smiles at her, and nods slowly. He starts to turn, and Gwen stops him with a hand on his arm, saying, “ Can you apologize to Adam for me? I’d do it myself but I think he’d, like, vaporize me with his Star Wars death rays or something,” Blake grins, and then nods. “ I’ll do it again myself when I see him for the first day of blind auditions, but in the meantime he’s going to be, like, making a voodoo doll of me and I have enough problems without that one too,” Gwen finishes with a little grin, and Blake nods again. In a move that surprises him as much as her (she can tell by the way he inhales a little sharply and walks away quickly like he doesn’t want to see her reaction), he moves up to her and kisses her cheek, a soft firm press of plump lips against the sharpness of her cheekbone. She gapes a little, because it’s like that spot was just set on fire, and there’s an electrical charge traveling up and down her spine. Her hand comes up to that spot, and Blake’s flushing, stuffing his hands in his pockets and biting at his lip.

 

“Bye,” He says softly, and turns and walks away quickly. She, in contrast, stands there, feeling the tingles up and down her spine and for the first time really noticing how the muscles in his back are brought into play when he moves his shoulders that certain way.

 

*****

 

She texts Adam the next night.

 

**To: Adam**

**From: Gwen**

 

**I’m rly sorry u kno. Did B talk to u?**

 

The message comes back a few seconds later.

 

 

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Adam**

 

**Yea. I know. Blake came home with a goofy smile on his face and he told me he talked to you, so I guess I can’t be too mad. Still pretty mad, tho.**

 

Gwen winced; she supposed she deserved this.

 

**To: Adam**

**From: Gwen**

 

**I kno. I’ll apologize again when I see you.**

 

She taps her nails against the tabletop of her dinette table, and texts him again before he can text her.

 

**To: Adam**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Get him to eat something, tho, will u? He’s lost half his body weight it seems like.**

 

The response comes back.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Adam**

 

**Hard when he doesn’t have an appetite.**

 

**To: Adam**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Can I bring him anything? Like, what’s his fav?**

 

The message that comes back a few minutes later makes her tear up for reasons she can’t explain, and she puts a hand over her mouth. She’s crying and smiling, two totally opposing emotions that she can’t reconcile.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Adam**

 

**His favorite is Peanut M &Ms.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for all of your comments. Please tell me what you think of this chapter!


	9. Lips on Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Blake and Gwen went there to forget, and do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this got loooooonnggg. But, what can I say, I honestly write through a scene as realistically as possible and its as long as it needs to be, I guess. Thanks for all the kind comments and support, guys! You're the best :). Also, pretty sure this story is going to be going past Chapter 12, I just think there's more to write about here. But, we'll see.

Blake is tired; there’s no ifs ands or buts about it. He’s exhausted; physically, mentally,  and emotionally. If he admits it to himself (which he’s doing more often now, admitting things about himself he didn’t want to admit before. He’s trying to be more honest with himself lately; the people in his life who he thought were honest were anything but so he might as well be honest with himself), he’s always been a cryer, but lately he’s cried more than he’s ever cried in his life. Luckily, though, it seems like the well of tears (that he thought was endless, that had seemed endless as he lay prone on Adam’s couch night after night with his head on a pillow in Adam’s lap and Frankie laying across his legs making them fall asleep, watching some mindless stupid action movie like Adam liked) has dried, and now he’s just tired. He doesn’t know why; he’s been sleeping eight to nine hours a night whereas usually he’s able to get by on six or seven. He’s  not drinking like he used to (the drunk phase had happened at Trace’s, where the older man had kept his whisky glass full and allowed Blake to try to forget all he wanted for a week before telling him to sober up and get on with his life) even with Miranda. Even though he’s not eating a lot (the thought of food sometimes makes him nauseous, and honestly he just forgets to a lot of the times these days), he’s not eating the junk food that he used to, so that had to count for something, right?

 

But, he’s tired. He’s so so so tired. But, he goes about his business. He stays at Adams, goes on the weekends to look at townhouses to rent off the beaten track of LA, teaches Adam to shoot a gun, spends nights watching movies and playing with Adam’s dogs. His business in LA isn’t much yet, but it will be soon.

 

Then, one Monday, after he’s found his townhouse and moved in, his business includes going to twelve hours of Voice audition taping. He’s excited and nervous at the same time; but not about the show. He’s excited about the show. He loves it there; is looking forward to seeing what kind of artists he can get his hands on and what kind of molding he can do with them. He knows Dolly freaking Parton is coming this year (which he’s over the moon about, because he’s kind of a fanboy and he’s never met her), and knows it’s going to be a great season. He’s nervous for an entirely different reason, and it has to do with a small blonde punk rock singer. Seeing Gwen at that first Voice meeting had been more painful than he’d expected. He’d still been in his crying phase, and it had been all he could do to shuffle in with Adam and sink heavily down into a chair, but he couldn’t help the way his heart stuttered when he’d seen her. His eyes had almost filled, were almost there (because he remembered sitting next to her at the meeting last year and telling her corny jokes and loving the way she threw her head back to laugh exposing her beautiful creamy neck), but he looked away before the tears could come, focusing with unusual intensity on the glass tabletop of the boardroom table. Adam had brought their arms into contact and had brought his other arm on the back of Blake’s chair, and Blake had just focused on getting through the whole thing without bursting into tears. 

 

He didn’t know what made him do it; maybe it was the fact that the red chair was the place he felt most comfortable in the entire studio, maybe it was a desire to finally be alone after months of being around people 24/7 (which he usually loved; he was not the type of person that liked alone time but hell everyone needed it every once in awhile and for Blake the urge was occasional but it was there), but he made his way to the stage and turned on the lights, sitting in the chair and staring up at the stage as if it held life’s answers. It had been a way to question whether it was worth his marriage (because he knowsMiranda cheating had something to do with him always being here, but she couldn’t see how _important_ this was to him and how much _fun_ he had; maybe that was why they didn’t work. They were similar on the outside but so so so different on the inside with what they wanted; she wanted to tour all the time and he didn’t. He wanted to do this, and she wanted nothing to do with).

 

He’d expected to left alone, but then there’d been Gwen, and there’d been his embarrassing sobbing (but he couldn’t hold it in, because he believed she was so honest sometimes it hurt and he just wish wish wished he could have someone like that, because his wife had been lying to him for years and he just wanted truth, that’s all), and there’d been his admission that he didn’t feel worth it (and hell had that come out of nowhere, it was like he had word vomit where Gwen was concerned). Then there was the fact that he kissed her on the cheek (embarrassing embarrassing but he thinks she might have liked it given the way he saw that she reacted before he high-tailed it out of there), he’d gotten a whiff of that fresh cut grass and strawberries and cinnamon scent that seemed to linger on her, had noticed the way her long hair curled over her shoulder as moved, the way her cheekbones stood out in stark contrast to her face, the way her large brown eyes had so many layers to them. 

 

Now, it was time for taping, time for spending the entire day and then some together before doing it all over again in a few days. They’d hear hundreds of artists and reject most of them, they’d be stuck in those red chairs for hours on end, and Adam would fidget and eat half his bodyweight in food and Pharell would be his normally calm self. Gwen, well, he didn’t know, but he wanted to see her again no matter how she was going to act throughout the day. 

 

He gets out of his hire car, smiling at the driver slightly before stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking towards the studio and his trailer. He stifles a yawn under his hand and wishes he had some time to get coffee before he has to go get changed, but he’s only got half hour until the makeup and hair women descend on him and that’s not enough time. He walks over to his trailer, and stops short. Because sitting on the stairs up to the trailer is a package sitting next to a Starbucks cup. No one’s around (he looks to double check but everyone else is already in their trailers), and he’s always been a go with the flow kind of person, so he shrugs and leans down to pick them up. _If it’s a bomb or the coffee’s poisoned, well at least it’s been fun_ he thinks ironically, before he sniffs. Because it smells like chocolate, and he opens the box to find a fluffy chocolate croissant there, as well as some blueberries. The coffee is his hazelnut latte, and he smiles a little, sipping at it before narrowing his eyes at the outside of the pastry box. There’s no note or name, but he shrugs and pops a handful of blueberries into his mouth, enjoying the way they burst on his tongue. Whoever his anonymous benefactor is, they know him and know his favorite foods and fruit and coffee (Blake’s putting money on Adam, but Adam’s more the pull your leg until you limp type but help pull the other one too so you’re not walking crooked and less the do nice things for you and remain anonymous type). He smiles a little, feeling himself perk up with the coffee and the taste of blueberries in his mouth.

He finishes getting gussied up and leaves his trailer in search of more company with the box with his breakfast, walking around the coaches seating area and finishing his coffee. He walks into the small kitchen area and stops short, because Gwen is leaned over the little fridge, pulling a bottle of iced tea out of the fridge. She’s leaned over, and all Blake sees is the long lean line of her bag that’s left bare for her outfit. He gapes (because hello he’s a man), and he must make some noise, because she squeaks quietly and turns to see him. She blushes a deep deep red when she sees who’s there (and it matches beautifully with her outfit, which is also red), and smiles.

 

“ Hi,” She says softly, a bashful little thing. He’s blushing then too, and smiling that little bashful smile he seems to feel come to his face whens she’s around. Before he can say anything else, though, she notices the box in his hands, and his smile gets wider. “ You got the food, then,” She says, looking pleased. He tilts his head, motioning down to it with his chin.

 

“This was you?” He asked softly. She nodded, blushing more. She motions to the box.

 

“ I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I basically just like got what I would eat for breakfast if I could b—-“ his smile grows as she talks and he laughs a little.

 

“Blueberries are my favorite and chocolate’s never bad,” He said softly, and she smiled, nodding.

 

“Nope,” She responded. They stared at each other for a moment, and he fidgeted. “Look… Blake, I really am sorry about the whole phone thing and I—-” She said, sounding contrite. She looked at the floor and Blake saw her swallow. He took a few steps towards her, and set a hand on her bare arm.

 

“Hey, don't worry about it. I know,” He responded, looking down at her. She looked up at him, sucking her lower lip into her mouth. His eyes followed the movement. “I’m sorry for falling apart on you,” He murmured, his hand still on her arm. She shook her head before he was finished speaking, her ponytail swinging.

 

“ I did enough of that on you, Blake, seriously don’t worry,” She said just as softly back. 

 

“ In all honesty, though, I think the well of tears has finally run dry. Not cryin’ anymore at, like a picture on the wall or a stupid fuckin’ song on the radio,” He said dryly, crooking his brow (because he was like that for awhile, anything got him going, from a stupid song that he knew Miranda loved or the fact that the left side of the couch where she usually sat was empty and he could practically picture her there picking at her guitar). 

 

Gwen laughed softly, a little watery. “ Wish I was there. Kingston said the word Daddy the other day when talking about something all of them did together and it was all I could do not to blubber like all over the mashed potatoes we were eating. I think the kids think i’ve lost my mind,” Gwen said, closing the fridge and walking over to the small table that was in the area. She sat at it and motioned for him to sit too, and he did, right next to her (by her widened eyes he realized that she probably expected him to sit across from her but it was too late now; his legs naturally touched hers when they were this close, but she didn’t pull away so that must mean something). 

 

“ How are the kids handling all that’s goin’ on?” Blake asked, taking a few more blueberries out of the open box. He tilted it towards her, and she smiled a little in thanks before grabbing a few. 

 

Gwen sighed, fiddling with the fruit in her hand. “ Well, I mean like ok I guess. Gavin wasn’t around much in the last couple of years, but it’s still weird for them not having, like, his stuff there. Zuma gets over everything pretty quickly; he’s already gushing over how cool Dad’s new place is. Apollo is little and doesn’t really realize what’s going on, so I guess that’s good.” Blake nodded, and Gwen popped a few blueberries in her mouth, chewing and swallowing before continuing. “ It’s Kingston i’m worried about. He’s always been the closest to me out of all of them and he’s felt this need to, like, protect everyone since he was like three. He’s caught me crying a few times and he always, like, hugs me and tells me that he’ll make sure everything is ok. And I know he talks to Zuma about everything going on and tries to make him feel better,” Gwen’s voice is getting teary, and Blake’s hand makes its way back to her arm. “ And, it’s like, i’m just so mad!” She slams a fist down on the table, and Blake listens,” Because a fucking nine year old should not have to worry about me. When I was nine all I cared about was how many pairs of Barbie shoes I had. You wanna know what Kingston told me the other day?! That if I want to talk he’ll listen to whatever he’ll have to say,” Gwen’s crying now, the tears running down her face, and blake rubs up and down her arm, listening, “ And I think he hates his dad a little for leaving us, and the worst part is I think he knows why he left. I don’t wanna bring it up because, like, that would be so traumatizing but I think he knows. I have no earthly idea what i’m supposed to do now; how am I supposed to make him feel better?!” She brings a hand up to her eyes, and Blake strokes his thumb along the outside of her arm. She sniffles, and Blake’s heart breaks a little (because he aches to see her happy smiling face, her face that giggles at his jokes and makes stupid puns with him and dances around the stage like she did at the beginning of Season 7) “ I never pictured this; all I wanted when I got married was a home forever with kids running through it and happiness, but this is what happened. I just wanted something simple, and I got something so fucking complicated.” She says, hanging her head, quiet. Blake swallows (because he wants that too, he’s starting to admit that to himself. He wants kids like an ache in his soul and he wants them running through the house in Oklahoma making an unholy racket and dyeing Easter eggs and throwing Christmas wrapping paper all around while he sits with his arms around someone),  and searches for what to say. 

 

“ If,” He clears his throat, tapping his toe slightly on the floor, “ If you want, I can talk to Kingston. My parents got divorced when I was ten, and my mom’s really happy now and so was my dad before he passed away. It was nothing like what you’re dealing with, it was pretty amicable, but I know how Kingston’s feeling. I don’t know if you think he would talk to me, but i’m willin’ to help if ya want,” He finished quietly, looking at the table as he fiddled with the pastry box.  Her hand on his stopped his fiddling, and he looked up at her. She was smiling at him, teary.

 

“ You’re really really sweet, cowboy, you know that?” She said. He blushed, bitting his lip and shrugging a little. She huffed, sniffling and wiping her face with her hands. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief, handing it to her. She laughed a little, taking it and wiping her face. “Still that eighty year old man?” She said, and he laughed a little, shrugging. 

 

“ You know it,” He said. He looked at his phone (they still had ten minutes before they needed to be onstage). He tore off a piece of the croissant and handed it to her. “ Food?” He asked, and she smiled, taking it and popping it into her mouth.

 

“ I missed being able to eat whatever without Gavin making some snide comment about it,” She said. He nonchalantly tore off another piece, popping that one into his mouth.

 

“ If ya want me to punch his face in I can, you know, hire people to do that,” He said dryly, and she laughed hard, throwing her head back (and oh hell there was her neck again). 

 

“ You don’t do that one yourself?” She teased, taking another piece of croissant, “ See, I was this close to saying yes, but if you’re going to like hire it out then naw,” She teased, and he laughed then. He put up his hands.

 

“ I’m a lover not a fighter Gwen, I’ve never punched someone in my life,” He said, and Gwen giggled. She took a drink of her iced tea then, and offered him some. He took it, taking a sip and handing it back to her. They finished off the croissant in comfortable silence, that was broken when Gwen motioned to his face.

 

“ You’ve gotta bit of chocolate, like, right there,” She motioned, and he blushed, ducking his head a little. She stopped him short, though, because she brought her thumb up to the corner of his mouth, wiping a little chocolate off. As his eyes widened, she brought her thumb to her mouth and licked the chocolate off. His blood was rushing through his veins, because holy shit, and his eyes were rapt on hers. She blushed deeply then, hunching her shoulders. “ There,” She said softly, virtually crumbling into a puddle in front of him. 

 

He took a chance then, because he reached his hand up to her hair and pushed the strands that were hanging to one side out of her ponytail behind her ear. At the movement, Gwen froze, and she looked at him as rapt as he had her earlier. The moment was electrically charged, the tension between them virtually crackling with possibility. 

 

Blake clears his throat then, because it had to have been ten minutes and they’d better be getting to the stage. He purposefully nudges his knee with hers as he fidgets. “ Wanna go get drinks after the taping somewhere? Maybe dinner?” He asked, trying for nonchalant (whereas his brain is going _pleasepleaseplease we had a moment here and I want to see if we can keep it going because i’ve had a crush on you for a year even though I didn’t want to admit it and my marriage was falling apart_ ). He sees her take in a deep breath in and out, and then she nods at him meaningfully.

 

“ Yeah, sure, the boys are with Gavin so I have time.” He smiles at her and stands, pulling out her chair for her and holding a hand out as she stands up. If his hand gently (ever so gently, because even though he wants to recapture the moment he doesn’t want to scare the living daylights out of her when she’s so fragile) traces down her spine (she shivers, a full body shiver that sends his blood singing in ways he didn’t even know) left bare by her outfit, then that’s no ones’ business but his.

 

******

 

“You are trouble with a capital T you know that?” Blake said in greeting when Gwen opened her trailer door at his knock. It had been a long ass day, and Blake was exhausted, but in a happy non-miserable way (and hell wasn’t that a pleasurable change). He’d gotten some good singers, laughed and eaten chocolate that Gwen had given him, thrown her peanut M&Ms when the cameras were off, and had more fun than he remembered having in a really long time. 

 

Gwen giggled (it was a happy sound empty of the tears that it was usually full of lately and he relished in the sound) and crossed her arms, standing in the frame of the door. “ I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said teasingly, and he laughed, clapping his hands a little.

 

“ What you mean, with the dancin’ and the throwing your shoes at me? That’s what ya don’t know what you’re talkin’ about?” He quipped back, and she laughed, shaking her head a little. 

“ Well I got news for ya; i’m eight feet tall and made of steel. Super Blake, that’s what they call me back in Okie,” He teased, and Gwen laughed hard, leaning over and eventually wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

 

“Super Blake is going to stick now, you realize that?” She teased at him, and he shrugged, smiling back full of dimples. She bit her lip and shook her head, blushing a little, before turning on her heel. “Lemme get my stuff here and then we can go, yeah?” She asked, disappearing for a second and then reappearing with a messenger bag. He nodded and let her close and lock her trailer door, following next to her as she walked to her car. “ Want me to drive? You just have to tell me where we’re going,” She said, waving goodbye to a couple of stagehands (one of his favorite things about her is how she seemed to know the names of every little intern and stagehands that worked at the studio; whereas Christina still didn’t know the main guys even after all the years she was on the show. Gwen was kind like that though, and he loved that about her).

 

“What, you don’t decide where we go? Thought you were the OC Girl,” Blake teased, not being able to help it. Gwen giggled but crooked an eyebrow at him.

 

“ Be a man Blake,” She hit him on the shoulder lightly and he mimed like she’d severely injured him, “ Decide where we’re going.” She said as they exited the studio out into the darkness of the parking lot. He furrowed his brow for a second, thinking. 

 

“There’s a Mexican place down the road that has great margaritas, how about that? It’s pretty private and paparazzi doesn’t really know about it so that’s somethin’” He suggested, and she nodded readily.

 

“Mexican is definitely my favorite so absolutely, and no paparazzi is a plus, “ Gwen said, unlocking her SUV and motioning for Blake to get in the passenger side. He did, and then Gwen got in the drivers seat. When Blake glanced back at the backseat, he smiled. Because there was a carseat in one of the seats, and a few toys scattered throughout the leather. A full bag of Cheetos sat in a little basket between the seats and there were a few books there, too. Toys all over the $150,000 car; it represented Gwen perfectly. 

 

“Mine too,” He said, and she grinned. 

 

“Favorite food?” She shot at him, and he responded.

 

“Fajitas,” He responded. She laughed, nodding.

 

“Mine too,” She said back, and he told her how to get to the place. She pulled out of the parking lot, and they were silent for a few moments. The radio played softly in the background, and Blake grinned as the sound of Stevie Nicks came on in the car. He turned it up slightly, humming along to _Landslide._ Gwen grinned back, and to his surprise started singing along. Her voice, though unusual (Miranda’s was traditional country and sounded like a lot of other people’s but Gwen’s didn’t sound like anyone at all, and Blake thought that was kind of nice), melded perfectly with Stevie’s tone. Midway through the song, she seemed to realize she was doing it, because she blushed a scarlet red and looked away, her ponytail swishing. 

 

“Sorry,” She said, tapping her nails slightly on the steering wheel. He smiled at her, looking at the way she bit her lip self consciously. 

 

“Please don’t be,” The words came out gentler and more sincere than he intended (because he wanted to keep the mood light, or at least as light as it could be), and she glanced sharply over at him for a second as she stopped at a red light. “ I love this song and you’re voice sounds amazin’ with it,” Blake continued. Gwen blushed again, ducking her head.

 

“Yeah?” She asked, and Blake nodded. Gwen grinned then, a happy bright smile, and nodded, nudging her elbow with his across the center console. “ Thanks, Super Blake,” She teased, and he laughed again. The car was silent again for a few seconds, only the radio (on to The Rolling Stones now, and those guys Blake could just not get behind, they kind of bored him if he was honest), breaking the stillness of the inside of the car as they drove to the restaurant.

“Blake?” She suddenly said, and he made a noise of affirmation, looking over at her. “ Why don’t you drive in LA?” She asked. He fidgeted, his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap.

 

“ I’m not goin’ that Hollywood, Gwen, ‘sides I’m not angry enough,” He teased slightly, and she quirked half a smile, before it faded again. They had to stop at another red light, so she turned again.

 

“No, really, is there another reason?” She asked, and he sighed deeply. She deserved him to be honest with her, at the very least. 

 

“Well,” he sighed again, looking out the window of the car at the busy LA night, “ My brother died in that car accident,” He started, and Gwen nodded, “ Well, this is so stupid,” He said, shaking his head a little. Gwen’s hand landed on his arm, and found the strength to continue, “But Richie died on a trip to Chicago he was taking with a friend, and he died right in the middle of the big city. And… I don’t know,” He clears his throat and feels Gwen’s hand squeeze on his arm, “ I get… uncomfortable drivin’ in the big cities like LA ‘cause of it,” That’s all he can say at the moment because there’s a lump in his throat, and then Gwen’s hand is entwining with his, her other hand on the steering wheel as she turns, and he squeezes her fingers tight (what he doesn’t say is that he’s torn between throwing up and crying whenever he drives because he doesn’t want to crash like his brother and he wishes Richie were here with him to drive, because he’d love to come visit if he were alive Blake knows it. It’s hard for a man to admit he’s scared, though, and he’s not that far along yet in his goal to be honest with himself). He sighs deeply, squeezes Gwen’s fingers, tries to get himself under control (because he needed to comfort Gwen tonight, not the other way around). 

 

They pull into the parking lot of the restaurant, and Gwen has to let go of his hand to turn off the car. She puts her hand over his again, though before they get out, and turns to face him fully. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” She says sweetly, sincerely, and he can’t do anything but stare at her for a few moments, taking in her sweet honest brown eyes. He can’t do anything but nod then, and they get out of the car.

 

*******

 

When he sits down on the stool, his feet touch the ground fully even though the stool is high up for the high up bar. Gwen laughs hard, and he makes a quip about being a Sasquatch. He relishes the sound of her laugh.

 

*******

 

He can’t help but set his phone next to his drink on the tabletop, and check it too often when he thinks she’s not paying attention. She’s looking at him one time when he clicks it off, and he blushes, tapping his toe along the bottom of the floor. She looks sad, not angry, though, and she pulls her phone out of her lap, showing him the fact that she’d been checking it. “What are we checkin’ for?” He finds himself asking, and she shrugs, putting her hand over hers briefly before decisively putting it in her purse. He does the same, but puts it in his pocket after turning it on do not disturb. Whoever needs to get ahold of him can wait. This is more important.

 

*******

 

It’s drink number two (and he’s a little concerned about Gwen driving but she seems ok), when she looks down at the tabletop, playing with the napkin set under her margarita (she’d laughed and told him she felt rebellious when she’d ordered one because she usually didn’t because of the sugar, and he’d told her she could eat or drink whatever she wanted to around him, he didn’t mind. She’d almost teared up, he could tell, but she’d knocked her foot against his instead and then made a joke. He went along with it, sensing issues he needed to move on from for the time being). 

 

“You ever feel like you have no idea what happened the past fifteen years?”  Gwen asks, her voice quiet. Blake nods, because he does all the time (especially lately). “Like, how did you end up with this person that was so right for you on the outside but so wrong for you on the inside. Gavin and I didn’t have anything in common, really,” She continued, fiddling with the condensation around her glass.  “ Yet I stayed, even as I realized we were totally wrong for each other. I stayed and I married him even though I knew, like, how much of a playboy he was.” She’s sounding just resigned now, and Blake can sympathize. 

 

“ ‘Ran and I thought we were similar at first, “ Blake began, feeling the need to share with her as much as she was sharing with him. “ And I think we were just too in the honeymoon stage to really realize we weren’t. The first argument we ever had was ‘bout kids. I wanted them ASAP, hell i’ve wanted the since I was eighteen, and she wanted nothin’ to do with ‘em. Ever.” Blake sighed again, deep and weary. He feels Gwen looking at him, rapt, and so he continues, “ She wanted to party all the time and at first it was nice but eventually I just wanted—“ Gwen interrupts him.

 

“Stability, home, family.” Gwen finishes, and Blake nods because thats exactly what he was thinking. Blake’s shoulders slouch, and he looks to the tabletop again. Their knees are touching underneath the bar, and he takes comfort in the small touch.

 

“I’ve been divorced twice now, both times ‘cause people cheated,” Blake says, taking another sip of his drink. It’s been out too long and is watered down, but he needs a moment. “ Maybe the problem’s me.” He finishes, his voice getting heavy at the end. This is something he hasn’t wanted to admit to himself since this whole thing with Miranda started, but dear God has he felt it, in the deepest recesses of his mind when he can’t sleep. There’s a sound like a chair being moved and he jumps in surprise when he feels Gwen’s hands on his face, made cold by the margarita glass. She’s cupping his cheeks and turning him to look at her.

 

“Blake, listen to me if you’ve never like listened to me in your life,” He nods through her hands, and she stares at him, her eyes fierce, “ There’s nothing wrong with you. The fact that they cheated doesn’t make them evil, but it does mean that there’s something going on inside them that you aren’t responsible for. Maybe you all were never suited, maybe you realized you don't love each other anymore, whatever. But it’s not. your. fault. Life isn’t as simple as faults and not faults or evil and good. It’s complicated, and so’s this,” Gwen’s words, so heartbreakingly honest and real hit straight to Blake’s soul and rip it out a little. Because it’s exactly what he needs. He’s heard enough people say Miranda is evil, she’s the devil, she’s horrible for what she did to him. He’s heard himself described as a saint and her as the sinner, heard all the normal platitudes. But, real life isn’t like in a movie, and it isn’t that simple. Platitudes can’t describe what happened with them. He doesn’t think Miranda is the devil, no matter what. He thinks she’s been desperately unhappy for years and needed an outlet for it, and this was it. He thinks that they just have always both wanted different things in life but shoved it down in favor of the lust they had for each other. Eventually, it boiled over like an unwatched kettle, and this is what happens. Finally, he knows (though he doesn’t often admit it) that both he and her are going to be much happier without each other. 

 

Blake doesn’t know what makes him do it then, because he takes one of her hands off of his face with his own hand and entwines their fingers. He turns his face in to kiss her palm, and she gasps. He takes her other hand off his face and brings both of her hands into one of his hands, kissing the back of it. She’s staring at him, her whole body taut like a bowstring, and he looks around (thankfully, since it’s a Monday evening, the bar is pretty much deserted). He leans forward then, and softly, quietly says,

 

“ I’m gonna kiss you now. If you have a problem with that tell me now, please.” She freezes for a second, and then shakes her head meaningfully. The blood is rushing in Blake’s ears, his heart is pounding a million miles a minute, because this is it. This is the precipice neither one of them wanted to acknowledge during the past year plus. Their little crushes on each other, the comforting, the sitting guard at the door, the bringing each other little gifts and food and being each other’s rock when the other felt like falling. It all was going to culminate into this. 

 

He leaned his head forward and brushed his lips on hers in a chaste but firm kiss. She seemed to know exactly how to tilt her head to meet his, and her lips were plush and soft. She gasped, a low sound muffled by his mouth in her throat, and he gasped to, because fireworks exploded underneath his closed eyelids. It felt like two puzzle pieces just slotting together for the first time, felt like the perfect sear on his favorite steak, felt like the way his heart felt when he’d met his niece for the first time or when he’d won his first award. It was incredible. 

 

Surprisingly, Gwen was the one to deepen the kiss, bringing a hand up to trace through his hair (and how did she know he loved it when people did that; he remembers falling asleep with Adam’s hand stroking through his hair on the couch; it always lulled him into feeling safe and secure) and opening her mouth meaningfully. He took the hint, and gently traced her lips with his tongue, bringing it into her mouth to stroke hers softly. It was his turn to gasp, because electric fire flew through his veins at the sweet soft taste of her mouth.

 

They weren’t bordering on inappropriate yet in a public place, but Blake knew if this continued it would be. So, he stroked her cheekbone with her thumb, and lovingly pet her tongue with his, and then gently broke away. 

 

Gwen looked, for lack of a better word, radiant. Her whole face was lit up, her mouth still pursed  and slightly open like she was kissing him, her eyes half lidded and closed, her face flushed. He swallowed heavily and licked his lips. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. 

 

Her eyes finally opened, and she looked at him with a soft soft smile, one that bespoke of shyness but a pleased one as well. She looked a little bit reborn, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of a troubled past, and he smiled back, a shy gentle one he only seemed to use around her. 

 

“ We—“ Gwen started to say, but had to cough because her voice was hoarse. Blake smiled, a little giddy (because hell he had done that, and didn’t that make him feel eight feet tall and bulletproof).  “We should go,” She said, and Blake nodded. They paid their tab and Blake helped Gwen with her coat before holding the door open for her. He inquired as to whether she was ok to drive and she nodded, waving her hand. They got in the car, but Gwen didn’t start it. Blake, busy with putting on his seatbelt and adjusting the seat that had automatically adjusted to a shorter person’s height, let out an _oof_ of surprise when he suddenly had a blonde rockstar in his arms, her lips virtually smashing into his.

 

The kisses started out a little artless, due to his surprise, but eventually devolved into wet warm tongue kisses that send shivers up and down his spine and caused her to let out these exquisite little whimpers from the back of her throat. Blake thanked God for tinted windows and groaned when her hand pulled at his hair a little, his own hands on the small of her back. 

 

Time, where he was supposed to be, what he was supposed to be doing, lost all meaning for awhile; they just kissed and kissed. The temperature in the car climbed to boiling even though it was off, Blake’s blood was singing and his heart was racing in his ear for an entirely different reason.  

 

Gwen broke off his lips with a pop, and Blake took the opportunity to kiss under her jawline on her throat. She gaped and threw her head back, stuttering out, “ W—mm” She whimpered, and Blake’s blood heated up a few more degrees, “ We should slow down,” She said, and eventually pushed gently on his shoulders. He went reluctantly, licked his lips looking at hers, and nodded. 

 

“Y—“It was his turn to clear his throat this time, and she giggled, looking as radiant as he had felt earlier when she had to clear her throat, “ Yeah we should.” He brought Gwen’s hand up again to kiss, and Gwen blushed. He looked her straight in the eye as he said exactly what was on his mind. 

 

“ I don’t wanna ruin this.” Gwen’s eyes widened at his words, but eventually she bit her lip and nodded.

 

“Exactly what I was thinking,” She said meaningfully, and he smiled big.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are great!


	10. Feeling Like a Teenager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Gwen and Blake get through the next battle rounds, or the one in which Gwen experiences a sexual awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And… we have officially begun to earn our explicit rating folks! Not a ton of it yet, because I really want to make this fic about plot and not about porn, but there had to be a little bit, and there will be a little bit more of it later And then I shall go crawl under this rock I have built for myself; especially for the first scene. Thanks for the support guys! This thing will probably end up being longer than twelve chapters I just have to work it out first.

Gwen barely slept that night; and she had never in her life had trouble sleeping. Even as an adult, anytime they would take any long flight anywhere, she would be able to put in some earplugs and instantly go to sleep. She could sleep nine, ten hours if she wanted to without a problem. But not this night. Because this night, Gwen’s body was fire. 

 

Her entire skin felt almost like it did when she had a fever, but instead it was a delicious heat, a heat that stroked its way up her spine onto her breasts, making her nipples tighten and her bite her lip. It was a heat that made her want to run a hand through her hair, pulling slightly at the strands and delighting at the slight tinge of pain. It was a heat that made every touch of the sheets against her pajama clad body feel like a lover’s kiss, every thought that passed through her mind was of a lover’s lips (and the lover had grey brown curly hair and soft scruff and blue eyes that gazed into her soul with neither artifice nor evasion). The slightest movement, touch, swish, gasp, made heat rush her core. At forty-five years old, at three in the morning by herself the night after making out with Blake Shelton in a Mexican restaurant and practically jumping him in her car, in her giant California King bed with it’s white Egyptian cotton sheets, Gwen Stefani was more turned on than she’d been in her entire life. 

 

She lay on her back that night, sheets pulled up over her breasts, biting her lip, because she was hot as a furnace in her core, and didn’t know what to do about it. Masturbation had never been big for her; honestly she’d never had a huge sex drive (and in her worst moments she’d wondered whether that was why Gavin looked elsewhere, maybe the fact that she forced herself to give it to him three times a week when he was home wasn’t enough for him) and touching herself had always left her hollow and lonely for an invisible lover who didn’t exist. She loved the sex she’d had with Gavin because it had given her three beautiful children, not because of what it was. Because even with him, her orgasms were short and nothing like the blinding pleasure she’d read about and heard about. She usually didn’t come more than once, and usually lay back using every trick to get Gavin to come as quickly as possible. 

 

But on this night, on this night hours after making out with Blake Shelton in a bar and in her car, she looked around her room as if to see if anyone was there (which was ridiculous in hindsight; the kids were with Gavin and there was no one else in the house), and then ran fingertips experimentally over her tank top clad nipples. Then, she gasped audibly, the sound echoing in the huge room and seeming to bounce over the giant bay windows, because even just her fingers brushing the hardened peaks sent another rush of heat to her core and made her a little dizzy. She ever so gently ran the nip of her nail over the peak of her nipple, and gasped again. She cupped the breast then, and her head threw back, an unconscious whimper escaping her mouth. Because _holy fuck_ she’d never been so turned on in her entire life. She needed something down there stroking her clit like she’d never needed anything so much in her life, and she blushed deeply murmuring, “ I can’t even believe i’m doing this,” to herself before bringing her right hand down to her underwear, sneaking underneath it. It was time to gasp again, because her panties were absolutely soaked through, her pungent scent hitting her nose as she ran a fingertip down the lips of her core. “Shit,” she couldn’t help but gasp, and arched her back a little. Then, she froze, because she had no idea what to imagine. What did people usually imagine in these situations? Her imagination past what was happening in her own life had never been very good. She shut her eyes, and gave herself permission to try.

 

It was so easy. All she had to do was picture that six-foot-five frame, those beautiful baby blue eyes, the way that tongue had gently snaked into her mouth before stroking it the way a lover might her hair or her hand when he held it, and she was arching her back again, a large whimper escaping her throat. She rubbed up and down her clit, thinking about the way he sucked on the hinge of her jaw like he couldn't get enough of her taste, the way he’d groaned when she’d gently pulled at his curls, the way his hands had stroked up and down her back. Almost before she knew it was happening, her other hand was coming down and she was shoving two of her fingers inside herself while the other hand stroked her clit, and her large moan echoed in the space again. She writhed, and all it took was to picture his lips tracing down her body before she was coming harder than she ever had in her entire life. Through the blood rushing in her veins and her heart pounding a huge timpani beat in her ears, through the fact that her fingers were practically soaked as she pulsed around them, through the way her entire body was on fire, she recognized she was gasping like she just ran a marathon.

 

She froze there on the bed, with her fingers still in her underwear and gasping like the last breath that would ever leave her was there. “ Holy fuck,” She whispered into the night, over and over again. As she came down, her body felt loose and languid, her brain as relaxed as it was when she listened to the sound of the Pacific Ocean crashing on the shore. Her eyes fluttered a little like they wanted to shut, and she felt herself falling asleep even as tears came to her eyes. Because in all of her years of her relationship with Gavin, all of her sex with Tony, everything she’d ever experienced, it had never been like that. Never. _Holy shit, what’s going to happen if we actually have sex,_ she thought, and took her hands out of her underwear. Grabbing a Kleenex from her side table, she wiped off her sticky fingers and lay prone on the bed, her legs and arms spread out like a starfish.

 

In the next moment, she doesn’t know what possesses her. Maybe it’s the need to get her thoughts out in some sort of written form, maybe it’s the fact that she feels like she wants to laugh and cry at the same time, maybe it’s just the lateness of the hour and her lack of experience with not sleeping, but she pulls her phone out of its charging station on the left side of the bed and queues up a text message to Blake. 

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

 **Just came harder than i ever have in my life thinking about ur lips, and I'm kind of overwhelmed about it.** She decides that she’d never be bold enough to send it, but just typing it out makes it more real somehow. She’s always been someone who deals with things by processing them out loud, and it’s too freaking late to call Jen or Sophie. So, for now, typing a message to Blake that she’ll never send helps, somehow. She sighs, a huge smile on her face, feeling sexier and sleepier than she had before even with her panties still damp and her hair frizzing and no makeup. She turns off her light, bathing the room in darkness, and turns on her side, stretching her body languidly before shutting her eyes and succumbing to blissful sleep. (What she didn’t know, though, in her sleep and orgasm addled state, was that she had pushed send on that message, and it was too late to take it back. What she didn’t know is that Blake was sleeping more peacefully than he had in two years after jerking off in the shower to thoughts of her lips, and that it wouldn’t wake him up, but that he’d see it first thing in the morning when he checked his phone, and that the message would cause him to drop it on the ground, the bumper stopping it from breaking as his mouth fell open and a “holy shit” escaped).

 

The sound of her phone buzzing woke Gwen up out of the light doze she was in at around eight that morning. It was just the text message buzz, not the long buzz of a phone call, so she turned over, snuggling into her covers. When it buzzed again and again a couple seconds later, she groaned, turning to shove on some glasses and peer at her phone. Her heart skips a beat when she sees it’s from Blake, and she can’t help the smile that falls over her face any more than she can help the huge blush when she thinks about the fact that she actually _touched herself to thoughts of him last night._ She opens up the Messages app, and proceeds to drop her phone in shock as she realizes that not only did she send the message to Blake instead of just typing it out and then leaving it be, she got a response back.

 

She spends a long minute with her head buried under the covers, wondering if people would miss her if she stayed there for the rest of her life or went and drowned in a puddle of embarassment. She whined under her breath to herself, feeling the heat in her face, because _holy shit she sent that message._ She’d never done anything nearly like that before; for fuck’s sake she’d never even sent a dirty picture to her husband, even when he was away for months at a time! 

 

She vacillates between sticking her hand out of the covers to grab for her phone and see what he said (probably _what the hell?_ or _this is moving way way too fast and we need to cool it_ if she was any judge; and he would probably tell her they couldn’t go out for drinks anymore and she would lose his kisses and the feeling of being eight feet tall around him and then it would be awkward at work) and whimpering in embarrassment for a few minutes, and then eventually sits up in a fit of assertiveness.

 

“Ok,” She mutters definitively to herself, sticking her feet out of the covers to bend down and grab her phone where it’s fallen face down on the floor. “ You can do this,” She says to herself over and over again as she haphazardly pushes the stray hair out of her eyes and picks up her phone. Only, when she picks it up, she can’t bring her eyes to open from where they’re tightly shut like she’s five and trying to avoid seeing something she doesn’t want to, and she only manages to crack open one eye. She takes in a deep breath in, out, and then opens both eyes and looks at her messages.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**….wish i knew what to say, but i don’t because you're so fucking hot.**

 

Gwen’s mouth is hanging open again (and if she were around her mother her mother would probably make a joke about catching flies), and she blinks a few times in quick succession. 

 

There was another message after that, and Gwen scrolled to read it slowly.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

 **Not good at this whole.. sexting thing or whatever the kids call it these days but lemme just say its not hurting super Blake if you know what I mean ;).** Gwen laughs out loud at that, putting a hand to her chest and leaning back on the edge of the bed slightly. Trust him to inject levity into this. Just then, her phone buzzes again with another message from him.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

 **How wonderful you are is distracting me from wanting to go slow.** Gwen suddenly finds herself tearing up and laughing still, then, her hand still at her heart. Because that’s so him ever since she’s known him, he can be goofy and silly one second and then say the sweetest things (but she’s never had it directed at her, and she kind of loves it). 

 

She can’t think of a response, so she doesn’t respond, and instead gets up to take a shower and get ready for the taping. She can’t stop smiling though, and its the nicest morning she’s had in a long time.

 

******

 

Because she seems to be determined to embarrass herself where Blake is concerned, it’s not until she’s ass up in the trunk of her car searching for the notebook she’d sworn was in here that he finds her in the parking lot. She has her elbow behind a stuffed Elmo and a couple of Fisher Price Toys, and her nose was firmly buried in her trunk.  “Aha!” She murmured triumphantly, seeing her notebook just out of reach. She lifted one leg to grab for it, pinching it between her fingers and pulling her body from where it had been practically laid down in her trunk. 

 

It’s as she’s standing up that she feels a broad hand on the small of her back, and a soft drawled voice say, “ Hi there.” She yelps, throwing her notebook up in the air behind her as she startles. A hand to her heart, she turns to find Blake having caught the notebook, staring at her with laughing eyes. She proceeds to embarrass herself further then, because she drops her bag, fumbling for it and tripping over her own feet as she blushes a deep scarlet red. His hand at his elbow steadies her, though, and she looks up into his eyes. “Hi,” He repeats softly, a soft dimply smile on his face. She sucks her lip into her mouth (she can’t help but notice how his eyes follow the movement and darken ever so slightly), and gives him a lame (oh so lame, she would beat herself up about it later but she has no earthly idea how to act around him now) wave. He smiles at her in that same gentle way as she straightens up and he releases her elbow. 

 

Eventually though, he goes all bashful (and isn’t that adorable, her mind supplies, the way he goes from confident and strong to digging his toe into the concrete with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head ducked) and laughs a little, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. “ God I have no idea what to say,” He drawls, and the phrase startles a laugh out of her. It’s so honest that she can’t help but fall for him a little. She shakes her head at him.

 

“ Me neither,” She says softly, feeling just as embarrassed. He opens his mouth and then shuts it, does this a few times until she raises her eyebrows expectantly and blushes deep.

 

“C—“ He starts, and then coughs a little. They’re both acting like a couple of starstruck teenagers, she knows, but she feels so awkward, “ Look,” Blake starts again, his hand coming to rub over the back of his neck. “ I really wanna hug you, so can I do that? It’s ok if not,” He sounds so unsure, like he expects to be rejected, and Gwen slouches a little (because to be honest she was expecting a possessive kiss and maybe ass grab like Gavin had done after their first kiss, and she was preparing to have to push him away gently and say she wanted to take it slow) in relief. She can’t help the huge smile on her face, and she nods.

 

In the next second, he’s wrapping her up into one of his huge hugs, his arms coming around to rest at a respectable place on her waist. His head goes to the side of her hair, and she feels him breathe her in deeply. She grins, because this feels great (and her body feels overheated and tingly like it had the night before again and yet comforted), and she tucks her face into the crook of his neck, sighing.

 

He rocks them ever so slightly, and they hold on way past what’s appropriate for two friends if anyone should come upon them in the parking lot. Right before she breaks away (because the tingles are getting stronger as is the desire to wrap her legs around his waist and stick her tongue in his mouth and beg him to fuck her in the backseat and she isn’t ready for that one, not by a long shot), she takes a gamble (and gives in just a little to the electricity shooting up and down her spine) and places a soft kiss on the place where his neck meets his shoulder. She hears and feels more than sees him inhale deeply, and his fingertips tighten over her waist for a moment. 

 

“You’re pushin’ my buttons,” Blake drawled softly, and Gwen grinned a little because he sounded as wrecked as she felt just from a hug. She tapped her fingertips playfully against the broad expanse of his back before clenching his shirt slightly in her fist, and placing another, more lingering kiss against the same spot, letting her lips make a soft _smooch_ noise as she sucked ever so slightly (it would occur to her later that she was being so so bold right away but she couldn’t help it). A low, barely audible sound escaped Blake’s throat then (and hell if that didn’t make the heat shoot right to places it shouldn’t be in a public place), and he ever so gently pushed her away. But he kept her close, entangling their fingers, and blushed down at her, all bashful six-foot-five. She grinned back, and they stared at each other like stupid lovesick teenagers again.

 

Blake cleared his throat then, his thumbs stroking over the back of her hands, “ Um… look…. I was wonderin’ if maybe..” Gwen blushed as he fidgeted, “ If maybe you’d wanna come to my townhouse for dinner tonight.” Gwen blinked, her eyes wide (because he wasn’t expecting her to spend the night, was he? Because the kids were coming home tomorrow and she was scared out of her mind really to let someone else see her naked this soon and she had always been one to take it slow anyways and). “Gwen?” His voice interrupted her internal monologue, and she caught the self consciousness in his voice as his hands loosened on hers slightly. He’s staring down at her, half wonder and half fear, and it’s such a mimicry of what she’s feeling that she can’t help but try to reassure (because he’s reassured her enough, it’s her turn), tightening her hands on his.

 

“ Love to,” She says softly back, and Blake sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes smiling and his dimples showing. “ We better get over to get ready,” She says, sounding like she wants to do anything but (because she does love this show but right now all she wants to do is stand and stare into deep blue eyes even though she’s feeling like an awkward twelve year old). 

 

“ We’d better go,” Blake said then, also sounding like he wanted to do anything but. It was a few more seconds before he released her hands, and then they were walking to their trailers, meeting each other’s eyes until they couldn’t see each other anymore. 

 

After the show, Gwen hurries through getting “unready” (she leaves her stage hair and makeup on, she looks better with it anyways and this way she doesn’t have to spend long minutes undoing all of her makeup and then redoing it the way she wants), speed walking out of the trailer and over to Blake’s door. Midway through her short walk, though, she’s stopped by Adam.

 

“ What are you up to tonight?,” He asks nonchalantly, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his tight jeans. She turns to him. Although she’d apologized in person the last time they’d seen each other the day before for the whole phone thing, their relationship was  still a little fragile (Gwen had no idea whether Blake had talked to Gwen about their kiss; for her part she was still so unsure about what was happening to talk to anyone just yet, but she knew she’d have to eventually). Gwen fidgets, because she unexpectedly feels like she’s in front of the high school principal like she was when she wore too much makeup to school and Cindy Peterson told on her.

 

“Oh….” Gwen said as calmly as she was able to, digging her toes into the rubber floor and trying hard not to blush like a little girl. “ Little of this, little of that,” She says finally, avoiding Adam’s eyes. Just then (because his timing is awful and wonderful at the same time), Blake comes up behind her.

 

“Ready to go?” He says gently, and Gwen sees Adam’s eyebrows hit his hairline as his eyes widen and he looks between the two of them. 

 

Gwen, for her part, wants to melt in another one of those embarrassed puddles on the floor, but instead she (as calmly as she’s able to with her racing heart and her blood thrumming through her veins) says, “ Yep.” She gives Adam a self-conscious little wave and Blake gives Adam a smile (and, Gwen notices, totally ignoring the way that Adam had tried to pull him aside to talk to him; Blake pretended like he didn’t even notice and if Gwen wasn’t dealing with her own embarrassment she’d probably find it funny) before walking with her out to the parking lot.

 

Gwen’s thoughts race as they walk in silence to her car, and as Blake starts to go around to the passenger side, Gwen stops dead. “I don’t know that i’m ready to tell anyone about the two of us… whatever this is,” She blurts out, slapping her hand over her mouth the next second. Blake stares at her for a second before laughing quietly, rubbing that hand over the back of his neck again and fidgeting just like he did before. 

 

“ Well me neither; why do ya think I played the idiot with dumb butt over there?” Blake said, motioning with his hand toward the trailer area. Gwen laughed. “ Not that I really had to play much, I mean….” Blake teased as they got in the car. Gwen shook her head good naturedly, looking to him as she started the car for directions on where to go. He motioned her out onto the road, telling her the next few steps,and then fidgeted, his leg bouncing up and down. Gwen looked at him out of the corner of his eye; he looked as nervous as she was (sometimes, in her self-consciousness and all of her own shit, she forgot that). She felt this sudden inexplicable need to reassure him about… well anything.

 

“You’re not an idiot you know. “ She says carefully, and watches as his head snaps to look at her. He opens his mouth, but she beats him to it, keeping talking, “ You’re actually like one of the most perceptive people i’ve ever met. Like, sometimes you’ll be quiet, but then you’ll say something that proves you’ve been listening all along. And it’s just, like, so rad,” She trails off then, because she’s gotten on a bit of a roll there (and she doesn’t want to reveal her hand too much at this point). She’s blushing and now it’s her turn to fidget, her knee bouncing up and down.

 

“Like, so rad huh?” Blake said teasingly, mimicking her accent. She burst out laughing, throwing her head back a little as much as she was able to in the driver’s seat. She knew he loved to laugh and so she did, but the way her words touched him was shown by the way he immediately put a hand up to her neck, running his fingertips over the back of it before bringing a hand to his mouth to kiss, entwining their fingers over the center console. Gwen smiled, and felt like a little kid.

 

They got to his townhouse, and they parked in front of it. Blake rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as they walked to the front door. “ I haven’t lived here long so it’s your typical bachelor pad but I liked the location,” He said as he keyed the code in for the door and hit the lock, turning the key in the lock. 

 

When Gwen stepped in the town home, it wasn’t at all what she was expecting. Sure, he was right in that it was a typical bachelor pad, and it was located near some great hiking trails and a little more out in the country than her own house, but it was full of furniture that obviously didn’t belong to him. The furniture was stiff looking and a little abstract, the kitchen area full of cool colors and bright artificial lighting. Blake had toed off his boots, and so she’d toed off her heels, setting them by the door as he made his way into the kitchen. He stopped though, looking at her a little self-consciously.  _It’s not you at all_ Gwen wanted to say, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Instead, she gave him an indulgent smile.

 

“ It’s… not what I pictured,” She said, and Blake laughed a little under his breath, nodding (and thank god he appreciated her blunt honesty. Gavin hadn’t, the Brits liked to dance around issues through passive aggressive comments and Gavin was no different). Blake suddenly looked at her, tilting his head slightly with his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly. 

 

“What is it ya pictured?” He suddenly asked, his voice curious. She blushed, and at his nod, started.

 

“Well, something more in the country,” She walks into the living room as she talks, taking in the artsy furniture and minimalistic decor, “ With cushy comfy couches in like, browns and maroons. Records and CDS everywhere, state of the art speaker system, your guitars in every room,” She turns around the space as she talks, and she’s on another one of her word vomit rolls, but she can’t help it because she has pictured it, “ huge, like, windows or something to look out at the scenery. Four season porch or balcony or something with comfy chaise lounges maybe,” She finishes and shrugs slightly, laughing a little. “ I dunno though, that’s just me,” She said, giggling a little self consciously. Because she’s aware she’s been going on for awhile, and she probably should not talk so much (at least that’s what Gavin had always told her).

 

When she finally looks at Blake, though, he’s frozen standing where he is, staring at her with wide eyes. He clears his throat then, taking in a few breaths. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, and clicks through it for a second before walking over to her.  When he finally speaks, his voice is soft and unsure, a little full of something Gwen can’t name just yet.

 

“ T…” He clears his throat, and Gwen tilts her head at him, “ This is my ranch in Oklahoma,” He says, showing her the phone. It’s her turn to gape then, because the house is almost exactly as she described it, right down to the guitars everywhere and the cushy maroon couches. She’s clenching the phone (because how the hell had she predicted this, did she really know him that well already? What was this, anyways?), and she looks at him.

 

“I…” Her voice is shaky ,and she has to swallow, “ I’d never seen pictures before,” She says quietly, and he just stares at her. Without a word, then, he takes the phone out of her hand, putting it back in his pocket. Then, he’s cupping her face in his large large hands (they dwarf her and make her feel a little consumed but its the best kind of feeling trapped) and leaning down to kiss her.

 

The kiss is tentative but his tongue is soon asking for entrance and she’s granting it, leaning up to wrap her arms around his neck as they kiss and kiss with gentle, unhurried smooches. His hands are stroking over her cheekbones and hers tangling in the very back of his hair, and she’s pulled to her tiptoes as he straightens a little to kiss the top of her lips. 

 

They probably could have kissed like that for hours (Gwen was happy to, despite the fact that her neck was already straining and her ankles were getting tired from standing on her tiptoes), but Gwen’s stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, causing her to let out a small embarrassed mewl and freeze against his lips (it reminded her she hadn’t had any lunch; Zuma had called from school crying because some kid had taken his lunch money and Gwen had to call Gavin to deal with it; by the time it was all done Gwen hadn’t had time to eat anything before taping resumed and she wasn’t about to just shove anything in her mouth with her new… whatever sitting right there staring at her like he had been all day). 

 

Blake laughed slightly against her lips, his eyes crinkling. 

 

“Dinner?” He asked softly, and she grinned up at him, a little giddy. 

 

“Yes please,”

 

Three hours later, after endless conversation and laughing and the most delicious fajitas Gwen had ever had, Gwen got in her car to drive home. The evening had been wonderful and the sweet make out session against the inside of the front door even better before she left. She’d touched her lips and she’d felt them, swollen and tingly, and she couldn’t help but smile. Blake hadn’t wanted her to leave but he wasn’t ready at the same time, she could sense it (just like she wasn’t; she’d let out a disappointed whine when he’d suggested her leaving but he’d simply kissed her again and she’d lost herself in his lips as she pushed him against the doorframe and ran her hands through that wonderful hair of his). Her blood was singing again, but it was singing for a different reason. It was the song of contentment, of wonder, of hope (and damn if that wasn’t something she hadn’t felt in a long time). 

 

When she got home, she checked her phone as she got ready for bed. There was a message from him. It made her smile wide and resulted in her taking a stupid video of her blowing him a kiss and sending it to him before she took her makeup off for the night.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Hope you don’t mind if I have…. delicious dreams tonight.**

Gwen didn’t know then if it was the glass of Pinot Noir she’d had, or the giddiness of feeling so electrified, or what made her do it. But, she quickly sent one more message before she went to bed. 

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**You know as KISS once said, lick it up. Omigod i cant believe I said that, but oh well cant take it back now rt? so good nite. <3. **

 

She’d gotten a simple heart emoji back from Blake, and she’d gone to sleep with a smile on her face and a sated feeling in her belly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're feeling like musical inspiration, I listened to "A Case of You" by Joni Mitchell on repeat while writing this chapter. So do with that what you will.


	11. Electricity in Sync

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Blake and Gwen have swollen lips during the second round of Blind Audition filming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. Sorry for the length of time in between updates. To be quite honest, I wasn’t feeling very up to writing. I’m still going through some stuff, and it’s kind of an enormous high horrible lows kind of deal at this point. I didn’t want to turn out something substandard, so I waited. I’m going to be ok, but just be patient with me, ok? I appreciate all of your support and your comments more than you know, thank you.

 

It’s not until the beginning of July that Blake Shelton realizes something about himself, something which he didn’t realize until now. He’s ready to be more mature. With Miranda, since she was younger and liked to drink and party and go out, he was fine being the drunken cowboy, tweeting stupid stuff and posting inappropriate Instagram pictures. He’d said a metaphorical fuck you to his haters and engaged with flamers on Twitter. He’d gotten a reputation of someone who didn’t speak any bullshit and didn’t tolerate any spoken about him. 

 

But something about this divorce, or maybe what comes after it, has changed him. Maybe it was being betrayed, maybe it was feeling like the plans he had for the next twenty years of his life went up in a flash of anticlimactic flame, maybe it was that he was so afraid he was going to be shunned by country music for divorcing the Country Queen for the rest of his life, but he found himself mellowing. He drank less, posted less, engaged with flamers less. He was a little bit quieter and a little bit more gentle, spent more time thinking about how things would look before he did them and turned his no bullshit attitude into an honest one. But, he thinks, he’s ready to be better. He’s ready to be a better man, a better human being on this planet, a better celebrity. 

 

He’s not going to lie, a huge reason for him wanting to be better is sitting right in front of him right now, all radiant sunshiney brilliant Gwen Stefani, whose kisses he’s addicted to and who is gentle as a kitten. They’re in her trailer right now, in fact, and she’s sitting on a tall director’s chair having her hair put into it’s typical ponytail. She’s telling some silly story to both him and Danilo (something about Zuma when he was little learning how to say “bullshit” and walking around the grocery store saying it to every single person he met, much to Gwen’s embarrassment. He notices she doesn’t mention Gavin in these stories even though he was undoubtedly a part of them; he figures it’s her way of coping and vows to let it go), and Danilo is laughing brightly, which is making her hair take much longer. But Blake, he’s not laughing, because he’s staring at her. Her makeup is done up to the nines (it’s virtually caked on for taping, she wouldn’t let him come see her unless it was done. As a matter of fact he’s never seen her without makeup other than that night he helped her after she found out about Gavin, and it’s starting to bother him), and she's shaking her leg up and down slightly as she motions with her hands to tell the story. Even like this, even with half a ponytail and half her hair down and totally not in photogenic mode, she’s beautiful. She’s light and purity and wonder and all the good things in this world, and he doesn’t deserve her now. Not with his immaturity and his drinking and everything else about him that Miranda had liked because it made him fun in her eyes (he’d heard she was dating a person even younger than she was; he was happy for her a little bit because maybe she’d get someone who didn’t mind her being gone months at a time). 

 

He knows she sees him right now (and saw him before, because once during a low point of his marriage and a high point of his crush he’d watched some interviews where people mention him around her and she virtually lights up and gushes how great he is; it makes him feel eight feet tall and invincible to hear her talk about him because he sounds perfect) with the rose colored glasses that come from the early stages of a…. whatever this was (he hoped it would become a relationship but he couldn’t rush her, he couldn't because otherwise he’d ruin something with the potential to be wonderful). He knows he’s been extra good to her, with the flowers he left at her trailer door this afternoon—he’d gotten to the studio an hour and a half before she did so he could set up the huge display of blue roses along with a card with a silly pun on it on the stairs to her trailer— and the way he always helps her out of her chair, the way he let’s her pick on him during the auditions but doesn’t usually pick back, the way he opens every door for her and brushes her hair back off of her face any chance he gets. He knows that one of these days he’s going to screw up and she’ll get irritated by his immaturity or his silliness or his face, like Miranda used to (it had crushed him a little, even though he didn’t want to admit it when she said she couldn’t see him for more than two weeks, because he wanted someone who couldn’t get enough of him, who had to talk to him all the time or else would be miserable. He wanted to do that to someone too. ). But, for right now, in this moment, beginning whatever this thing was between him and Gwen, he wanted to be something good He wanted to be better, more grown up, more mature, more kind, everything. He wanted to be the kind of man that her eyes and her heart see him as. Because he’s learning that Gwen sees with her heart as much as her eyes, and he wants to cradle her precious heart and not break it. It’s fragile right now, so he wants to take care of it. He wants to wrap it in something warm and nurture it to to sleep and treat it like the precious commodity it is.

 

Blake can’t help himself then, because the words just tumble out of him as he’s sitting on the couch watching Gwen get made up for the second round of Blind Audition Taping. “ You’re gorgeous you know,” He says, and then blushes deeply and looks to the ground. Because Danilo was right there, and he was looking between them like there was a secret he was going to try to figure out but didn’t know yet. _Shit shit shit,_ he thinks, _I've already ruined it because now i’ve gone and given someone a clue and they didn’t know and it’s going to make Gwen uncomfortable and she’ll get fidgety and…_ he’s so wrapped up in his internal monologue, so busy having an internal meltdown and staring at the floor, that soft hands wrapped around his face made him jump.

 

The hands pulled his face up from where it was staring a hole into the carpet of the trailer, and before he realized it Gwen was softly kissing him, just a brief brush of lips against lips. She straightened then, a totally embarrassed look on her face, and sat back down in the director’s chair, a hand over her mouth. Both Blake and Danilo gaped, for different reasons. Danilo looked like Christmas and Black Friday had come at once, his mouth was set up in a huge smile and his hands thrown in the air like they were totally frozen. Blake, in opposition, was shocked. His eyes flit from Danilo to Gwen and then back again, and his lips were still pursed in a semi-kiss shape. 

 

“ Gwen darling I think you broke him,” Danilo’s dry voice broke the spell that everyone was in, and then Gwen giggled self-consciously, her face bright red. Blake shook his head a little and bit his lip, his eyes trained like magnets on the beauty of Gwen’s radiance. 

 

“ I can’t believe I did that,” Gwen said giddily, fidgeting in her seat. She was smiling from ear to ear, though, and so was Danilo. Danilo playfully hit her shoulder then.

 

“ Ok now you realize you’re going to have to spill now. What the hell is going on between the two of you, dear?” Gwen’s eyes flit to Danilo’s and then to Blake’s. Blake just stared at her with that same expression. He was totally frozen, waiting to react to what she was going to do. Gwen lifted her other hand, almost to make a point ,before sagging her shoulders a little.

 

“We’re…” She began, looking to Blake with a little panic. Blake cleared his throat then, stepping in.

 

“ Us,” He finished, and they looked at each other. Gwen’s eyes shone, like sunshine on a cloudy Seattle morning, and she practically glowed. He basked in her radiance, his eyes meeting hers. She bit her lip then and smiled a little, nodding ever so slightly before straightening in her chair (he thinks he might have made her taller, a little bit, and he loves that idea). Danilo looks between the two of them for a few seconds before shaking his head. Blake can’t quite hear him, but Gwen giggles and Danilo looks happy, so it has to be okay. They might not be able to put a name on what they had or where it’s going, but it was there, and that’s all that mattered.

 

*****

 

After the first day’s long taping, she drives him home. Since they started…whatever this was, it’s become routine (at least the last two nights it has that they’ve been taping; he’s been to her house twice more for dinners during the week between the tapings when Gwen didn’t have the kids, they’d ended up having long gentle kissing sessions against her front door on the inside and once against the kitchen counter as he grabbed his keys from where he set them there). She goes down the side streets where his rental is located, pulls into his long driveway, and cuts the engine. They’ve been giggling and laughing the whole way back, their conversation lighthearted and happy, but Gwen’s smile dies down as she looks at him with those huge chocolate brown eyes (she has bedroom eyes, eyes that are sleepy and sexy and full of so many things he can’t name and he doesn't have a right to yet). They’re holding hands across the center console and have been the whole twenty-five minutes it took them to get to Blake’s house, and Blake brings it up to his mouth for a few soft kisses across the base, before he turns it over and kisses across the palm a few times, soft dry smooches as his scruff tickles her skin. She giggles a little but presses her lips together in a way that tells him she’s affected. 

 

“Want to…” He starts, interrupting his words with a few kisses to the pulse point of her wrist. Her pulse is fluttering beneath his mouth, and her perfume (something fruity and slightly minty; it’s so her that he can’t get enough of it) is more concentrated here where she must have placed it that morning. He nuzzles his nose against her wrist a little ( it’s a nuzzle that speaks of cherishing her soul, which he does and he wants to, her soul and her heart) before continuing his words against the soft skin of her arm. “ Want to come inside for a little bit?” He feels Gwen get goosebumps against her arm, and he holds it with his hands as he looks up at her. She looks at him with eyes that are a little panicked but wanting, and he looks right back at her, trying to tell her that he’s willing to go slow. He’s willing to cherish and nurture and wrap in warm things and love the heart that is beating wounded right now, he’s willing to treat it back to almost full health before asking her for everything she has to give to him. 

 

They make eye contact for a long time, and Blake loves it. He’s always had a thing for eye contact; he loves looking in his partner’s eyes and seeing the emotion reflected in them. He loves seeing their depths, seeing the many colors surrounding the pupil, seeing how they widen and narrow and express all of the things that a person might be too scared to say. Gwen has the most beautiful eyes. They’re kind, kind, kind, and he hopes that his eyes reflect even a tenth of the kindness that hers does. 

 

Gwen eventually nods (Blake tells his dick to shut up then and that it’s not getting anything tonight and for a while), and he hops out of the car, holding up a hand to tell her to wait while he opens the door and holds out a hand in chivalry to help her get out. She giggles ( a soft, melodious thing that’s all feminine, and his heart stutters), and takes his hand as they make their way into the house. 

 

“Drink?” Blake asks, turning on some lights (but he leaves them low; the lights full blast make the room seem cold and that’s the last thing he wants to do this night; he wants to project warmth and safety and comfort. Gwen toes off her shoes (he sees her wince a little; she’s wearing sky high heels and has been all day; he can’t imagine how uncomfortable they must be), and pad over to the kitchen where he’s rifling through the liquor cabinet.

 

“ Nothing alcoholic, please,” Gwen says, and Blake freezes (because he’d gone there automatically; near the end Blake and Miranda had needed significant alcoholic lubrication to even be able to stand each other sometimes, so his mind went there). “ I’ve been sitting in that chair all day i’ll literally, like, fall asleep if I drink anything,” She says, perching leaning against the kitchen counter. He notices she still seems nervous, and so he nods (no alcohol on a date, he really is growing up, he thinks to himself) going to the refrigerator. He’s got a few different kinds of soda and some sweet tea in the top of the large refrigerator, and he motions with his hand to Gwen, beckoning her over.

 

“Whatdya want? I got lots,” He says, and she leans over. He can’t help his eyes going to her back, left a little bare by the rising up of her black t-shirt from her jeans. His hands almost go there, go far enough to reach out, but then he clenches them (thinking to himself, grow up grow up grow up, slow slow slow slow even though he wants to see what that patch of soft peaches and cream skin feels like). She leans up again (and he loses that little patch of skin, he can’t help but being disappointed at the skin’s disappearance) and he grins when he sees what’s in her hand. “Sweet tea!” He exclaims, grinning at her in that dimply way he has. She blushes and grins back.

 

“ I love the stuff; have for years. If it wasn’t so much sugar i’d probably, like, have an I.V. of it or something,” she says, uncapping the bottle.

 

“Me too,” He says, because it’s true. His favorite used to be sweet tea and vodka, now it’s just the sweet tea (because part of this whole growing up thing is cutting back on the booze; he finds he doesn’t miss it as much as he thought he would). He motions to the plastic bottle with it’s orange label. “That stuff’s from Texas though, and people from Texas don’t know nothin’ so I can’t speak for the quality’a the tea,” He says, exaggerating his Southern accent. The ploy to make her laugh (and hopefully help her lose some of her nerves) works, because she throws her head back to laugh, exposing that neck again (the animalistic caveman part of him can’t wait to leave a mark there, a mark that makes her wear a scarf for a week and love it. He’d sense she’d love that, love being able to have visible proof of a man’s desire for her, but he’s not sure). He grins, coming closer to her at the kitchen island, close enough that their arms touch. He continues, “ Texas is like the Adam Levine of the South, basically,” he teases, and Gwen wipes tears from her eyes and laughs and laughs. 

 

She elbows him playfully and takes a long drink before closing her eyes in pleasure. “ Hate to say it but this Adam Levine is good stuff,” She teases. He gapes for a minute (he has to admit, and he’s ashamed to say it but his heart skips a beat and he feels a pang of jealousy, because maybe she really wants his hot model best friend and not a cowboy too tall for his body who doesn’t have it together), before he tries to make a joke out of it.

 

“I knew ya wanted him i’m just bein’ used to get to him huh?” Blake says teasingly, but the words are tinged with something that Blake hopes Gwen can’t sense. Gwen senses something though ( _shit,_ he thinks), because she tilts her head in the way of a confused puppy before looking up at him with those huge brown eyes that bespeak understanding. 

 

“ I prefer my men six foot five and curly haired, thanks,” She says seriously, and he can’t help it, he blushes, laughing a little self-consciously. She’s still looking at him (and damn her eyes are beautiful), and so he turns towards her, bringing a hand up to stroke over her cheekbone. She grips his hand with hers and leans into it, her eyes closed, and he leans in to press a nuzzling kiss against her cheek. She gapes a little (because his last kiss on her cheek had been a soft peck) and leans her head away as his nose squishes against her face. He feels her shiver, being so close to her and touching her and all, and he basks in her warmth. Gwen opens her mouth to say something, and he listens. “ Can we,” She says, taking in another deep breath, “ can we sit down on the couch for awhile?” She says softly, and he nods after a minute (because this will be the first time they haven’t simply kissed at the door, and he knows there will be kissing because her eyes can’t come off of his lips and his are trained to the beauty of her mouth). 

 

With a little glint in his eye (because in addition to being gentle he wants to be playful too; she deserves that), he wraps one arm around her waist and leans down to sweep her off her feet, lifting her knees in a bridal style hold. She shrieks a little, laughing, and grabs onto his neck. “Blake Shelton put me down!” She says teasingly, still laughing (he knows she doesn’t mind, though ,because her hands are in his hair and she’s smiling with her eyes too). He shakes his head and leads them over to the couch. He leans down to sit her down before walking back into the kitchen to grab their tea, walking back into the living room and starting a fire in the fireplace. Even though the place isn’t him, even though he wishes he had the soft comfort of his ranch, she looks amazing in his living room, knees braced up and feet flat on the couch.

 

He hands her her tea and then sits down himself, and pulls her feet into his lap. He massages the balls of them and then her ankles and her toes, and she inhales a surprised breath before sinking into the massage, leaning her head back against the arm of the couch. “Are your feet sore?” He asks gently, feeling the knots in the arch. She makes a sound of affirmation. “ You should stop wearin’ those huge heels all the time if they hurt you,” He says softly, phrasing it like an idea (because he doesn’t want to tell her what to do; he knows her ex did that and he doesn’t want to be that person). She bites her lip, her toes twitching.

 

“Gotta stay beautiful all the time right?” She teases, but there’s an edge to her words that he doesn’t like (he’s starting to realize that Gwen is frighteningly insecure despite her beauty; she’s been starved for affection her whole marriage and he’s ready to stuff her to the gills with cherished touch). His foot freezes on her ankle where it had been massaging it, and he taps her ankle until she looks him in the eye. He meets her eyes with wide ones of his own as he spoke.

 

“ Gwen?” He says, and she nods nervously, “ You know that night that you asked me for help?” That’s all he’s going to say to allude to it; he hate hate hates to bring it up but he needs to to make a point. She tenses and starts to curl into herself, and he regrets bringing up but wants her to listen to the entire thing before she gets self conscious. “ You were beautiful then. You’re always beautiful, no matter what.” He says firmly, his thumb rubbing against her left ankle. She stares at him, her eyes sparkling and wide. He watches in semi-horror as a single tear slides down her cheek, and he rubs her ankles softly. If she wants to sob, he’s going to let her sob. He wants her to be whatever she wants to be in that moment, but he wants her to believe him. More than anything he wants that. 

 

“ I need to kiss you, now now now,” Her words shock him a little (though they’re quiet and whispered, almost desperate in their need) , and before he realizes what’s happening her ankles are out of his hands and she’s in his lap. Her knees are keeping her hips off of his (and thank God because telling his dick to shut up wouldn’t do anything if they weren’t), but she’s covering his face in kisses, her hands cupping his cheeks. He beams, nuzzling into them and feeling a little emotional (because it’s his turn to feel cherished; and God he’s missed feeling cherished. It’s been so so long). He has to swallow the lump in his throat, but he eventually guides his lips to hers.

 

The kiss already starts out more bold and more confident than their previous kisses, her lips are firmer on his and her tongue is steady in his mouth (he’s been letting her lead the kisses; he doesn't want to crush this fragile thing they have). Her tongue explores the roof of his mouth before licking along the edges of his lips while at the same time her hands pull at his hair a little bit. He groans a little, deep in his throat, and Gwen emits a little whimper. 

 

Their kisses make deep sucking noises as their lips meet and break apart, meet and break apart, and her hands end up firmly buried in his hair where his end up over that bare space on her back where her shirt rides up. He grows more addicted to her kisses, addicted to the way she whimpers when he nips slightly at her lips, at the way she kisses over his top and bottom lip individually before kissing them together, at the way she whimpers anytime their tongues touch a certain way that means the flats of them stroke against each other. He learns more about what she likes (like the fact that she likes when his hands stroke over her back and hold the back of her neck and hold her hands) and teaches her what he likes (like the fact that he likes his hair pulled, just a little bit and not enough to seriously hurt, like he likes an eager tongue in his mouth and a woman who’s as desperate to kiss him as he is her). Time loses all meaning as they kiss with no intention to move it further (Blake repeatedly tells his dick to shut up and relax even though all he wants to do is bury himself in her until his whole being is surrounded by her warmth). Blake’s lips start to tingle and he knows his are swollen (and he thinks hers are too; he knows his scruff is making her face red but she doesn’t seem to mind). 

 

When she eventually leaves (and they realize they’ve been kissing for almost an hour and a half solid; his lips will be sore for days and he can’t bring himself to mind one bit), he touches a hand to his lips repeatedly as he locks up for the night. He can’t seem to stop smiling, and he sleeps better that night than he has in years, with his body curled around a pillow and dreaming of a beautiful sunrise.

 

*****

 

Blake’s never seen Gwen tipsy or drunk, and seeing her tipsy tests his resolve to grow up and be patient. Because party nights like this, like the night of the official Voice opening party with the crew at a small club in Los Angeles, always made him horny. He thinks it’s from the nights he spent with Miranda like this, but anytime there’s a nightclub and booze involved and a late night, he wants to make out and do everything else he can think of when he gets back home with his woman (some of the best sex Miranda had he had ever had had been home after a party, both drunk but both too crazy for each other to care). 

 

Gwen’s tipsy. Blake doesn’t think she’s drunk, but he knows she’s had a few mojitos (the drink had fit her so well, fresh and bubbly yet classy at the same time), and as a result she’s a little more uninhibited. She laughs loudly, throws her head back, dances with some of the crew members (the only reason Blake isn’t growling like a caveman at any man that touches her is because the only time she dances with men is when they’re gay). He, for his part, sits in a booth and watches her (he doesn’t know if she knows he’s watching, but the view of her legs under her short dress and her feet in low boots get him going. She’s started wearing flats every so often when her feet were particularly sore and he loved it because it means she was comfortable), nursing a couple of whiskeys. 

 

She’s dancing with Pharell now, and watching her body move is doing things to him. Even though it’s a silly dance that’s more laughter than rhythm, even though the both of them look like nerds (that’s probably because they both are), and even though they’re making the people around them laugh with them, he can’t take his eyes off her.  He brings his drink to his mouth, sips, and swallows (because he wishes he had the taste of her on his lips instead of the alcohol, he misses it even though it’s been less than twenty four hours since he’s kissed her. They had no time today; everything had been crazy and he’d barely gotten to hug her. Going from the feast of kissing her for hours to nothing was hard, even if it was only for a day). He stretches his legs out underneath the round booth, stretching one of his arms long along the top of the seating area. 

 

“You’re staring dude,” A voice interrupts his eyes on her, an he turns to see Adam sliding into the booth next to hi, giving him a raised eyebrow. Blake felt himself blush (because he still remembers wanting her so bad and looking at her from afar), and then he realizes that _wait, he doesn’t have anything to be ashamed about; he’s allowed._ So, he shrugs and pointedly looks back over to Gwen, downing his drink. Adam, for his part, narrows his eyes at Blake’s staring, looking from Gwen on the dance floor (Blake knows she knows he’s watching now, because her movements are less goofy and more self-conscious. It only endears her to him more) to Blake. “Okay… what’s going on between you two? There’s something weird that just happened,” Adam says slowly, leaning forward a little. Blake’s heart pounds a little (because there’s something about him in this moment that wants to keep this a secret and he doesn’t even know why. He knows they told Danilo, but Adam is different, somehow. There’s something about this whole thing they have, whatever it is, that Blake wants to treasure by himself for right now). So, he decides to play it cool despite the cold sweat breaking out across his forehead and the back of his neck.

 

He watches Gwen break away from Pharell, grab her clutch, and make her way towards the door on her phone. It’s late, almost one, and Blake decides he could leave if Gwen does (they’d taken separate cars here but Blake hopes they take the same car back, at least for a little while). He calmly stands up then, quelling the racing of his heart, and slaps Adam upside the head. “ None ‘a’ ya business dipshit,” He says, throwing a twenty down for the expensive glass of whiskey before slowly walking out of the club a respectable distance behind Gwen. 

 

He looks around for her on the downtown street, hands stuffed in his pockets, before he sees her making her way to a car down the street. He follows her, and calls out. “ Gwen!” He calls, and she turns. The huge smile she gives him is uninhibited and giddy (she might be a little more than tipsy, but she’s walking straight so that’s something). She runs to him then and practically throws herself in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in the crook of his neck. He _oofs_ a little and wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her a little and feeling her toes come off the ground.

 

“ Hi,” She said with a high voice, and he chuckled. He thanked God in that moment that they were in an area usually tightly protected from paparazzi (because he couldn’t imagine the pictures). He rubbed her back, his nose taking in the smell of her hair mingled with the slight smell of sweat (god it was his favorite new scent, he could smell it forever). 

 

“ Where do ya think you’re goin’?” He said teasingly, his drawl coming out a little more that he’d had drinks. She giggled a little squeaky and nuzzled her nose against his neck. He swung her around them, her feet completely coming off the ground, and she squealed, holding tight onto his neck. In that moment, he was all caught up in her natural light, her natural radiance, the way she made his life brighter just by being there.  

 

“Come home with me for awhile and let’s make out some more,” She said suddenly, looking at him with serious eyes. His heart skipped a few beats, and he stared down at her. Honestly, her bracing truth sometimes was one of his favorite things about her even as it was a little scary sometimes, like now, even when it made arousal shoot through his veins and his willpower grow weaker (he told his dick to shut up again, it protested). He set her down then, tucking her long hair behind her ear again, and she nuzzled into it a little. She was blushing now, her cheeks a beautiful rose color, and he could see that she was about to apologize or say something self-deprecating. She went so far as to open her mouth before he gently put a finger over it. 

 

“ I’d love that,” He said softly, and she grinned over his lips. She pulled away for just a split second to look around (the street was deserted, it wasn’t quite late enough for anyone to be going home yet and the crew had rented the whole club). then, she pulled his hand up to her mouth and sucked one of his fingers into her mouth ,her cheeks hollowing and her tongue making a little slurping sound.

 

All of the willpower Blake had developed, all of the times he had told his dick to shut up and behave, all of the arousal he had tamped down, came raging back with the force of a typhoon, and he hand to stifle a gasp as goosebumps broke out over his whole body. She released his finger after just a few seconds with a small pop, and blushed, biting her lip deeply. 

 

“ I never woulda done that if I wasn’t a little bit drunk right now,” She said suddenly, tilting her head at him with her lip still between her teeth. For his part (in between his brain screaming _holy shit holy shit holy shit_ )  he put a hand on her back, steering her towards the black SUV.

 

“ Get in the car,” He said softly, phrased as a suggestion rather than an order (because he never wanted to order her around; he knew Gavin did that and he didn’t want to be that person). She beamed at him before getting in the backseat first at his beckoning (and if part of the reason was because he wanted to see the material of her dress stretch over her ass than that was a thought he would keep to himself). He sat too close to her, throwing an arm around the back of the seat and playing with the ends of her hair. There was no privacy screen, though (and hell knew if the driver would talk to every tabloid in creation), so he had to settle with giving her eyes that he hoped expressed how much he wanted her.

 

Their chemistry was electric; the charge between them like a power line wire sparkling between their bodies. They looked at each other over and over again before looking away (maybe they were afraid the spark would ignite, maybe they were embarrassed, neither one knew, but they looked).

 

When they got to her house, she got out of the car and waited until the driver pulled out of the driveway before opening her front door, toeing off her boots and sighing happily as her bare feet touched the cold tile (he grinned; it was one of his favorite feelings, too). She sauntered up to them, the alcohol serving to make her a little more bold. He grinned, cocking a hip and opening his hands for her to come in between them. He knew what he wanted, but wasn't sure whether to ask for it. But, he decided (and maybe the alcohol had made him bolder, too, because he was determined to ask for what he wanted), he was going to go for it. 

 

“ Can I do somethin’? If you’re not comfortable we don’t have to?” He asked, and she tilted her head in confusion at him, looking up at him. He could see her hesitate for a second but then he saw her nod, and he grinned a little at her. His hands came down underneath her thighs (he felt her gasp a little and her arms came up to wrap around his neck, almost to anchor herself). He pulled, and she squeaked as her legs were lifted around his waist. She gaped, open mouthed at him (because her last husband had been scrawny like her, but Blake was anything but scrawny), her arms around his neck. Her legs unconsciously tightened around his waist, and she stared at his lips. He gently walked them to her couch, then (it was so Gwen, a mix of abstract color and shape but with the comfortable cushy warmth of his own at his ranch), sitting down (she was light, oh so light, he wondered how many meals she’d missed out of a desire to stay thin for her ex. He determined he was going to make her vegetarian biscuits and gravy at the next available opportunity) and pulling her to straddle him. She huffed a little as she was pulled down, and with the way he did her groin came fully onto his lap. She let out a small noise from the back of her throat, one that went right to his cock, before gently bringing her lips onto his.

 

There was something even more confident and desperate in their kisses that night. They’d made out so many times by now that he knew her lips so well, but she was addicting and he couldn’t ever get enough. His hands fell to the bottom of her ponytail, where they pulled slightly as he nibbled at her lower lip. She whimpered and practically shoved her tongue in his mouth, her hips arching unconsciously. he felt a stab of arousal in his groin and he groaned, his hands coming to the sides of her upper waist, where his thumbs stroked the skin over her shirt. He paired the stroke with a long pull of his tongue in her mouth, and she reacted by grinding her groin against his in a slow, seductive roll. It seemed to come almost unconsciously to her, because her hands tightened in his hair (and God that was good, every pull sent stabs of arousal through him doubled by the pressure of her against him) and she broke away to pant wetly in his hair. 

 

“God, sorry, I j—.” She started to say, but he stopped her words with a slow kiss to her neck, sucking at the skin lightly. She stopped mid-word to let out a large whimper (and God that was sexy; it was like she was sex appeal on long long legs and didn’t even know it), tilting her head back. “ _Fuck don't stop,”_ She gasped, a high breathy phrase, and he grinned before nibbling slightly on the skin (not enough to leave a mark, but enough to tingle a little bit). She ground steadily into him (and God he felt pre-cum leaking already, he was so hard), and leaned forward to suck messily at his ear (and how the hell did she know that turned him on beyond belief? She had no way to know). She licked up the rim and whispered in it, “ Mark me, please, please leave a mark, “ The phrase was desperate and breathy, and his arousal (if that was even possible, God what she was doing to him. They were so fucking in sync) shot up a notch. He nodded, stroking up her back to the sides of her breasts, where his thumbs stroked back and forth. 

 

“ I got what you need, darlin’, just what you need,” He said soothingly, his voice wrecked and hoarse. He kissed down her jawline then, small nibbles following soft smooches, and eventually made his way to the crook of her neck and shoulder. He moved farther up then (to where it wouldn’t be covered unless she tried, he sensed she wanted this and her frantic nodding as he moved up confirmed it for him. How did he know her so well already?). He began with soft nibbles, letting his lips break the sting of his teeth. He virtually worshipped that spot on her neck then, coupling long stroking motions with his hand that got closer and closer to her proper breasts with every swipe (her breath hitched every time he did it) and sucking kisses that involved too much tongue.

 

“ Fuck yes,” She whimpered, throwing her head back through her gasps. He stopped only when the mark was well on its way to formation, leaving chaste nuzzling kisses against it in farewell before he licked his way up her neck to capture her lips again for her addicting taste. She murmured through their kiss, and although most would have found it unintelligible, he got it. “Thank you thank you thank you,” She was murmuring over and over again, and his heart clenched a little even as he was so turned on he could barely breathe (because what kind of men had she been with that she had to thank him for doing what she wanted and for worshipping her for awhile). He broke away to cup her face, noticing tears on her cheeks that made his heart clench further.

 

“ I’ve got what you need,” he said softly, kissing her deeply. She nodded then after a second where she didn’t breath, and then they were back to those passionate wet kisses, artless in their desperation but so full of feeling at the same time. Time lost all meaning, Blake’s mind and body and mouth and hands lost to the haze that reminded him of getting high but so much better. He was high on Gwen, and he couldn’t get enough.

 

It was only when Gwen had to interrupt their kissing to yawn hugely (a yawn that Blake echoed, and hell yawning was contagious), that Blake decided to propose ending it (as much as he wanted to stay, he didn’t think they were at this point yet. Besides, he was trying to be a grown up, even if dick didn’t want to grow up). “ I should let you sleep,” He proposed, his lips sucking on her top lip. She shook her head for a second and whimpered into his mouth before interrupting again for a yawn, looking at him sheepishly. Her lips were so swollen and so were his, a little chapped from the pressure. When she got up and he got up too, he checked his phone while he was calling an Uber. 

 

“Holy shit it’s been two hours,” He said, because he couldn’t believe it. No wonder Gwen was tired, it was almost three in the morning (he can’t remember the last time he stayed up this late, but he feels electrified and energized instead of tired). She grinned and then laughed brightly when she saw him for real, and he tilted his head in question at her. She pushed on his shoulders towards the front hallway, and he went until she stopped him in front of a mirror.

 

He gaped, and then laughed hard. Because (although he had sex hair that was everywhere and a splotchy face and bright swollen lips), her red lipstick was all over his face. It had leaked out onto his lips, on his neck, on his ear, even on his fucking hands, and he clapped his hands, feeling a little giddy as he laughed. She giggled and walked towards the kitchen. He followed, leaning against the doorway and watching her. She already seemed lighter somehow, like some of the weight was off of her shoulders (he was so flattered to think that he might have helped with that), and she virtually bounced over to him with a damp washcloth, handing it to him and letting him clean the red off of his face. It was when he touched his lips that he realized how swollen and sore they were (because he’d never made out with someone for that long, not even as a teenager. If he was honest, he was nerdy and chubby as a teenager and never really got many girls anyways that he had the chance to make out with), because he hissed under his breath. She caught it though, because she winced sympathetically and touched her own lips (he noticed her lipstick had been cleaned up and reasoned she must have done it in the kitchen before she brought him his washcloth), nodding at him.

 

“ Me too,” She said, beaming up at him. They kept eye contact for a few seconds, both smiling like the loons they were (at least Blake was becoming that way, he didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to keep this but damned if he did anything to lose this feeling). He huffed a little then, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

 

“ I’d better go, I gotta flight back to Tish tomorrow morning, well, this mornin’ in like four hours,” He said dryly, and she giggled. Her hand slipped into his pocket to join his, and he felt his heart stutter for what felt like the fiftieth time that night. He shuffled to the front door, toeing on his boots (he was forced to let go of her hand but not before he stroked his fingers over her palm, she visibly shivered). He fidgeted in front of her as soon as his phone buzzed to tell him his Uber was here, and she hugged him, her arms coming around his back. He sighed happily, nosing into her hair. 

 

“You gotta go for a whole week?” She asked, a little whiny. He beamed (because she wanted him she wanted him she wanted him. He felt the urge to dance, something he hadn’t felt his entire life), and nodded regretfully.

 

“ Sorry darlin’” He murmured. She made a noise and nuzzled into his shirt, “ But I gotta get the ranch set up for the winter and then go to Nash to talk about my new record,” He said. She nodded again, sighing into his shirt. “ But i’ll see ya for battle rounds,” He inhaled her scent. 

 

“ I’ll miss you,” She said simply, hugging him tightly for a second before breaking away.  She kept her arms around his back though so he kept hers around her waist, swaying them a little back and forth.

 

He kissed her sloppily on the cheek then, soft nuzzling kisses as his nose squished against her face. She leaned into it and beamed bright. She was glowing even more than she had before, and he was so blinded by her light. “ I love your cheek kisses,” She said, giggling, and he beamed, feeling his face heat up (why he was blushing at this when hadn’t at her groin grinding into his he didn’t know, but he was just going to go with it because he felt twenty years old again and so so happy, like he could do anything). He decided to tease her a little, because as much as he’d loved her whimpers he needed to hear her laugh.

 

“ Just my cheek kisses? Darlin’, i’m hurt,” He teased, mock pouting a little. She giggled, throwing her head back (exposing that reddening mark, God he wanted to be buried in her so bad. It was a sign that she was his, and he felt so so possessive). She leaned on her tiptoes then to cup his face, pressing her lips to his again in a chaste kiss that made them both hiss because their lips were so sore. 

 

“ All of your kisses,” She said softly against his lips, breaking away and planting her feet flat on the ground. He opened the door then, and she leaned against it. He pulled her hand up to kiss then, stroking his thumb over her wrist. 

 

“ I’ll see you next week when i’m back from Tish ok?” He said softly, looking into her eyes. She stared at him with her wide chocolate gaze, nodding and smiling at him in that soft way she had.

 

“ Bye cowboy.” She said softly. He noticed that she waited until he was in his car to close the door, and he coulnd’ stop beaming the whole way back to his house, tracing a hand over his lips every so often. _Hell,_ he thought, _if this was growin’ up it’s mighty fine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on what inspired this chapter: Recently, i’ve begun to believe in a number of things I never thought i’d believe in. I won’t elaborate here, but I wanted to portray this chapter as one of change, as I feel like i’ve been going through lately.


	12. Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Gwen and Blake film the Battle Rounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks! As promised, here is Chapter 12. I deleted the author’s note, because I don’t need it anymore and those who wanted to read it probably already did. A few notes on this chapter: we are reaching the bounds of my timeline knowledge as far as what happened when. I have to admit a few things: first, I don’t have a television. I get most of my Voice related news late. Also, I didn’t have time to watch every single episode before; i’m a full time student and also have a practically full time job, so stress is kind of my middle name. So, if i’m screwing up the timeline at all, please forgive me! I tried to do as much research as I could, but time. Third, the thing with Gwen doing things and then dying of embarrassment about them is definitely taken from my own life; I do that all the time. Ever think about all of the embarrassing things you’ve ever done when you’re trying to sleep? Yep, that’s me. 
> 
> So, there you have it. Also, I tried to put pictures in this but couldn't do it. Anyone know why? Technology and I have a tumultuous relationship. I appreciate all of your kindness, everyone :).

_Ache._ That’s the only way Gwen can describe what she feels as the week stretches out, six long days, without seeing Blake. It baffles her the first time she feels that pang, when the door had shut behind him and she had been left with her swollen sore lips and the marks on her throat. She had felt tears in her eyes and they’d shocked her, because it’s not like he was going off to war, just to Oklahoma. But, a couple had slipped down her face, and she had swiped at them a little angrily, before staring at the door.

 

“What the hell Gwen?” She had muttered to herself, completely drying her eyes before going to the hallway mirror to check out the marks on her throat (she couldn’t believe she’d practically begged him to mark her; God she’d never done that before. She hadn’t even considered it, hell had even gotten mad at Gavin when he left a mark once because her concealer wouldn’t cover it). She hissed when she saw them, her fingertips coming to trace over the red. They were going to bruise, that’s for sure, and they were already a little raw and tender (from a combination of his scruff and his tongue). She was smiling though, even through her tears, even through the pang she felt in her chest that she didn’t yet recognize as an ache. She traced over the marks again, mentally thinking about what turtlenecks she was going to have to wear over the next week to keep them out of the eyes of the paparazzi. Smiling, grinning, beaming, glowing, sore, and crying, with a pang in her chest she couldn’t name the reason for, she turned off her lights and went to bed.

 

The pang was still there the next morning, after she’d woken up from a lovely dream where she’d been surrounded in warm cotton flannel as the birds sang overhead and she smelled spicy aftershave. She stretched a little in bed, letting her eyes flutter open, and she rubbed a hand up over to her heart, frowning a little when she felt the ache. She felt empty there, almost like a piece had been cut out of it or a little needle had been stabbing at it over and over like a paper cut. She rubbed back and forth over her chest area, trying to massage the pain away, as her toes wiggled in the sheets. Frowning a little in puzzlement, she flopped over onto her stomach, burying her face into her pillow and sighing a little contentedly because she got to sleep in. 

 

She didn’t know what made her do it in that moment, but she leaned on her elbows long enough to grab her phone off of the nightstand, flipping to the text message screen and re-reading the messages Blake had sent her after he’d gotten home (there was a _ill miss your lips_ and a _you really looked gorgeous tonight_ that had made her blush and grin when she was already in bed, biting her lip as her face flushed). She doesn’t know what makes her take the next step, but she’s opening up a new text message the next thing she knows and is typing to him.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**much as i miss my kiddos its so nice to be able to sleep til 9.**

 

She bit her lip before she hit send, analyzing and overanalyzing the words until her eyes crossed and she eventually just hit send out of frustration. She figured it was a safe topic, her children; she didn’t even know whether…. whatever they were entitled them to texting each other all the time. They’d texted some, sure, but they’d spent so much time together since this whole thing had started that Gwen really wasn’t sure what the boundaries were. And she’d have to set the, she knew that, because her lack of boundaries (well, her willingness to do whatever the fuck Gavin wanted in order to keep him from straying and even that hadn’t worked) was what had ended her last marriage and gotten her dumped by Tony.

 

The pangs, the ache was still there though, beating a slow steady beat beneath her chest, sharpening when she concentrated on it. She took in a deep breath and released it, taking in another one, and feeling her eyes flutter. _A nap, maybe,_ she decided, allowing herself to have a lazy morning before she went to pick up the kids later that afternoon. Just then, though, her phone buzzed from where she had set it on her chest to wait for a message, and she startled a little, surprising even herself with her eagerness to check and see who it was. Before she even read it, she knew it was Blake, and a huge smile came over her face again as the pang sharpened. 

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**See now you got me thinking about you in bed…. not good for my concentration.**

 

Gwen couldn’t help it then, she giggled, a high pitched thing that surprised even her. The pang sharpened almost like a soft fist hitting her, and she gasped a little bit. She tapped her nails on the phone screen, ignoring it for the moment, before quickly switching over to the camera app and turning on the selfie function. She took in her appearance, no makeup, no hairdo done, with a black tank top set against white Egyptian cotton, and tilted her chin a little, snapping a selfie. She sucked her lip into her mouth, hissing a little and blushing more (because they were still sore, even eleven hours later, that’s how much they had devoured each other). 

 

Releasing a loud breath, she sent the picture to Blake, sending him a quick text message after sending the picture.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**here u go then ;). i look scary rt now so don't judge, pls.**

 

She hit send before she could think twice about it, resting her phone against her nose as she analyzed and overanalyzed what she said to him (because was she too flirty? Was she too bold? What was their relationship, anyways?).

 

Her phone buzzed, shaking her nose slightly and causing her to snap out of her thoughts. She unlocked the screen, looking at his message.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

 **Holy shit you look gorgeous. Always gorgeous.** Her mouth dropped open a little as she read, and she felt the pang in her chest get heavier, this time like a heavy mallet dropping on it, and her phone dropped to the sheets as she gasped. Her eyes had suddenly filled, and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. The words _gorgeous, always gorgeous_ played over and over like a repeated mantra through her mind, and she sniffled (because it had been so long since she felt beautiful, so damn long. She’d never really felt traditionally beautiful, anyways, she was too weird for that). She blinked tears from her eyes then, but they just kept coming, and she eventually had to reach over for a Kleenex to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. 

 

Still inhaling a little shaky, she swallowed the lump in her throat and typed back.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Boo. I don’t get a pic of ur face? Pls? :)**

 

Because in that moment, she needed to see him, needed it like she needed nothing else in her life in that moment. Her brain was whirling, she still felt like she was going to break into a billion pieces of someone looked at her twice too long, and she was overwhelmed. 

 

Her phone buzzed.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Dog kisses totally not on purpose. What can I say, my four legged girl missed me.**

 

Gwen giggled, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter at the picture of Betty and Blake, with Betty licking Blake’s face. She typed back.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

 **dogs totally r a bonus. I miss the Pomerania we had that went with G.** She does miss the little fluff ball; she’d loved animals her entire life and they’d only gotten the dog a year ago. But, if she was honest, the dog had made her sneeze like the dickens, and so as much as she loved it it made more sense for the fluff ball to go with Gavin.

 

Her phone buzzed.

 

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

 **You should get another one; sure kids would love it.** Gwen shrugs when she reads that, because she has thought about it, but she wonders whether it will be too much change too quickly for her kids. She thinks she’s going to wait awhile, and maybe get another breed of dog. She’s always liked kind of scruffy ones, maybe a poodle of some sort. 

 

While she’s thinking, her phone buzzes again.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Bonus picture; even better because my ugly mug isn’t in it.**

 

Gwen didn’t laugh this time at the picture of Betty in the Voice chair without Blake, because she felt this unwavering desire to comment on his self-deprecation. As much as he was helping her feel better about himself, sometimes he would say things about himself that weren’t good. She needed, needed to say something to him to disabuse him of this notion that he was ugly; she needed it more than she needed anything else in that moment.  Even though she’d never been good with anything but song writing when it comes to words, she went with it as she went along.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

 **The dog is adorable. But ur handsome.** She bit her lip before she typed the rest, and then decided to go for it. **I like you a little scruffy like that. its real.** She hit send, and exhaled a huge breath. Her heart was pounding hard in her ears. 

 

Suddenly, her phone was buzzing repeatedly, and Blake’s face showed up on the screen. She inhaled a sharp breath and pressed answer.

 

“ Hi,” She said gently, her voice a little high and self-conscious. There was a shaky breath on the other end of the line.

 

“ You don’t have to say things just because I say it first, “ Blake’s voice said, low and gravely. There was something off about his tone, like he was trying to be quiet but also was affected a little (her heart skipped a beat, and the pang increased). Gwen pursed her lips, a little bit irritated but also a little nervous and a little defensive.

 

“ I don’t say things I don’t mean, Blake, “ she said softly but meaningfully. She heard a deep sigh from the other end.

 

“ Yeah, I know, “ Blake’s voice came over the speaker; it sounded resigned but still a little overwhelmed, “ I’m sorry,” He said, and Gwen waited. “ Look I hate to do this Gwen but i’m meeting my ma and my sister and about ten of my cousins and unless you want everyone grillin’ me ‘bout who i’m talkin’ to i’d better go,” Blake said, and Gwen nodded, the pang in her chest sharpening a little.

 

“ Ok, I understand.” There was silence for a minute. Gwen tried to think of something to say, but her mind was spinning too fast because it suddenly hit her what the pang was. It was _ache._ It was _loneliness._ The thought of hanging up with Blake made the pang sharpen, and she tried to get ahold of her thoughts. She tried to lighten the mood a little with a levity she didn’t feel. “ Blake?” She said, and heard him _mmm_ over the phone, “ For the record, when I said that I was talking about the dog,” She said teasingly, and his rich laugh filled her ears as they hung up for the day. 

 

She stared at her phone for a few seconds even after she hung up, staring at the picture of the two of them from last year (Blake looked sick and tired and she looked sad, God how much ad changed). The pang was steady now, the _ache_ and _loneliness_ coming with a vengeance now that they were identified.

 

She grabbed her black journal (she always wrote everything down, ever since she was a little girl; it helped her sort out her thoughts and think), and her pen, flipping to a new page.

 

This is a feeling Im not used to. She wrote the words down on the page; they had just come to her. She looked for a word to describe the ache in her chest, the pang, the l _oneliness_. She needed to get it out somehow, and this was going to be it.

 

Misery. She wrote quickly, underlining it a few times before closing her notebook and getting up to get ready for the day. As she stood, she firmly said to herself.

 

“Okay,” She took in a deep breath as she stretched standing up, “ I miss Blake Shelton. Fine, fine, it’s fine,” She said, wishing she could believe the words herself.

 

*****

 

She doesn’t have a chance to see him before she gets to the studio to film the first day of Battle Rounds. According to his texts, his flights had gotten delayed, and then by the time he finally got back to LA he had to go to three meetings before he went to the studio (he always let her know what he was doing; it sent pleasant tingles through her heart every time he did because she remembers every time she had tried to get ahold of Gavin and being unable to). 

 

She’s standing by his trailer door, texting Sophie on her phone and tapping her foot impatiently against the floor, when she hears a deep clearing of the throat. Her head snaps up, and there he is. He looks tired, with huge bags under his eyes and fatigue etched into the blue. He’s wearing a shirt that’s rapidly becoming too big for him (he’s losing a lot of weight fast, she’s a little worried about it but doesn’t know if she has the right to bring it up yet), baggy jeans, and his trademark mahogany alligator boots. His hands are in his pockets, and he grins at her, all soft dimples and kind eyes. The pang in her heart (the _ache_ and _loneliness,_ her brain helpfully supplies) gets deeper and sharper for a moment, almost like how you felt when you came up from underwater just before you reached the surface. She can’t breathe for a second, the air is gushing around her ears and her heartbeat is beating a timpani in her chest. He opens his mouth to speak, probably to say something goofy or silly.

 

She doesn’t know what makes her do it then or even realize that’s she’s doing it, but she’s practically throwing herself into his arms before he can speak, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and tucking her nose into the space between his neck and shoulder. Her feet come off the floor, and he holds her tightly with arms around her waist after he makes a surprised noise. There are tears in her eyes that are running down her face, and she’s snuffling them into his neck. The _ache_ pops like a helium balloon, leaving her feeling warm and safe, emotionally overwhelmed but she doesn’t know why. 

 

She hears Blake let out a surprised breath when he feels the wetness of her tears against her cheek, and he tightens his hands around her, his thumbs stroking over the small of her back and him holding onto her like she weighs no more than a feather. He brings one hand then up to her hair to stroke over it, and she’s nuzzling into his neck now, her nose squishing against his face. 

 

“ Gwen? Did something happen? Is everything ok?” He asked softly in her ear, and she couldn’t do anything but sniffle and laugh ironically, because nothing was ok and everything was at the same time, she was going through so many rapid changes so quickly and her heart was already beating with this man that she’d done nothing but make out with, when it had been crushed and as black as night when she found out about Gavin. 

 

She shook her head into his neck, tightening her arms around his neck. She swallowed the huge sobs that wanted to take over her frame, and placed short sweet kisses all over his neck, her lips making soft kissing sounds. He inhaled sharply, and she felt goosebumps come to his skin, before he was cupping her chin with characteristic gentleness and pulling it up so he could see her eyes.

 

She blinked a few times to get the moisture away, and smiled at him, a soft watery thing. He stroked a hand over her cheek, his hand practically dwarfing her face, and the tenderness brought fresh tears to her eyes. His eyes, in turn, looked concerned, and he frowned slightly.

 

“What’s wrong, “ He said gently, nudging her a little as his feet adjusted themselves on the floor. She pursed her lips deeply, swallowing the repeated lumps that came into her throat. She tried to quell the word vomit that wanted to come out, tried to play it cool, but she was so so bad at it (always had been) and something about the tender gentle way he looked at her made her want to tell him all of her secrets (like the fact that she hadn’t had a truly good orgasm until she had made herself come to thoughts of him, like the fact that sometimes she didn’t believe in God after this whole Gavin thing, and so so much more).

 

“ I just missed you so fucking much,” She spewed out, blushing deeply as soon as she’ d said it. But the words kept tumbling out, like water that had spilled and was dripping onto the floor. “ and I didn’t even think I would, I shouldn’t even, but every day without you even when I was talking to you made me feel, like, sadder somehow and…” He interrupted her with a finger to her lips. She looked at him then (she had been looking at the floor because she couldn’t look at him and say the things she wanted to say), and her heart stuttered. Because, there were tears in his eyes, and his lips were trembling a little bit. As she watched, one made it down to his cheek, and he stared at her for a few long (and wonderful) seconds, before he laughed slightly, disbelieving. 

 

He cupped her cheeks fully then, letting her feet slide to the floor as he leaned down. He kissed her, a wet kiss from their tears but otherwise chaste. He broke away to sniffle, which in turn made her sniffle, which made her laugh a little. 

 

“Why the hell are we getting so emotional over this?” Gwen asked softly, laughing through her tears. He shook his head, pursing his lips deeply and smooshing kisses on her cheeks. 

 

“ I have no fuckin’ idea,” He said, which made Gwen laugh harder. She gasped a little when she felt his lips suck gently at one place on her cheek (it reminded her of when he put those marks on her neck almost a week ago; they’d almost faded by now and she could use concealer to cover them up. She still felt the phantom ghost though of his teeth on her neck, his lips sucking a possessive mark into her skin). 

 

His eyes snapped up to hers at her gasp, and his eyes heated up, becoming like the ocean where they had been a tired stream before. He slotted a hand into her hair and leaned down again, giving her a chance to pull away. She couldn’t even pull away if she’d wanted to, and she met his lips with her own when he leaned in.

 

The kiss this time was slow and full of want, his tongue coming in to stroke against the edges of her lips before tracing the roof of her mouth. She whimpered, a little low in her throat (because it felt like all of her favorite things put into one lip shaped package), and brought her hands to his hair under his hat, disturbing it as her hands stroked through the strands. She met his tongue with her own; he tasted like hazelnuts and blueberries and spice, and she stroked their tongues together.

 

“What the hell?!” A voice said shrilly from off to the side, and their lips separated with a loud pop. Gwen looked with wide eyes over to the voice, and saw Adam standing there, his mouth open and one hand in his pocket. The other held a carrying tray full of two coffees, one obviously being for Blake. Gwen blushed and covered her face with her hands. Blake, though, instead of being embarrassed (which he was still a little, she could tell by the flush to his face and the way his hand twitched), simply pulled her into his chest a little. She whimpered a little, tucking her forehead into his chest slightly as she debated the merits of changing her identity and moving to South America. 

 

“ Adam we’re gonna talk about it later, ok?” Blake’s voice said firmly. If Gwen’s eyes had been opened (they weren’t, they were shut against the material of Blake’s shirt, she would have seen Adam open his mouth, his arms crossed, and quiet at a sharp look from Blake. She would have seen Blake mouth _later, please,_ and Adam nod skeptically before turning around and making his way to his own trailer with the coffee. 

 

Gwen whimpered again, fisting her hands in his shirt. “ Holy shit,” She said meekly, feeling her heart beat in her ears again. He stroked over her back.

 

“ It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Blake said soothingly, and lifted her head enough to kiss her forehead. For some odd reason and one that she didn’t know how to explain, it helped her, and she felt brave enough to lean up and capture his lips softly. He kissed back for a little while, and took her hand, opening the trailer door and letting her go inside first. She smiled (and tried to quell the rising embarrassment or overanalyze the fact that they’d just been caught out by Blake’s best friend who was so incredibly enmeshed in all of this, from deleting Gwen’s name off of Blake’s phone last year and everything else) and took his hand, bringing him down to meet her lips as the trailer door closed.

 

******

 

It wasn’t until after a very soft yet thorough make out session in his trailer that she realized they were going to have to do _interviews with Adam._ She realized this, naturally, at the most inopportune time, namely when she was picking out her outfit for the day and picked out a short skirt and high heels (because she was feeling sexy, Blake had made her feel this way). She was flipping through the racks of options with Mariel, and suddenly let out a gasp as it hit her that she was going to be _two feet from the man who had caught her making out with Blake._

 

“ Everything ok?” Mariel asked, taking in the way her hands froze. Gwen bit her lip and nodded, picking out a top and holding them out. Mariel nodded and smiled approvingly, and Gwen began an internal mantra that would last her for the hour and a half it took her between picking out her clothes and going to the interview room. _I am cool. I can do this._

 

When she came into the room to sit on the couch next to Adam, she purposefully avoided the Maroon 5 frontman’s eyes. In avoiding his eyes, though, her eyes inadvertently met Blake, who was the only one sitting on the other red couch. Blake’s mouth was open, and his eyes traced up and down her body, from the short skirt to the high heels to her hair. 

 

“Holy hell,” He said out loud, and then blushed a deep bright red as he realized he said it out loud. Gwen giggled self consciously, her hand going over her mouth as she looked to Adam, who was looking at the two of them with narrowed eyes. She glanced at Blake again, to find him still looking at her, his eyes all heat and (maybe, was it? She didn’t know yet but she hoped it was) devotion. 

 

She looked to Adam and his narrowed eyes again, looked to Blake and his dumbstruck expression, looked around the area to find no one else was there, and decided to be bold. Maybe it was the fact that the _ache_ had finally gone away, maybe it was the fact that Blake was looking at her like she was a bright star in a dark cloudy night, she didn’t know. But, she walked over to him, letting her hips sway a little (she saw Blake’s eyes go down to her hips and his tongue came out to lick his lips a little; the motion sent heat to her core). She perched on the arm of the couch right next to Blake, leaning her top half of her body down and giving him a passionate kiss. It was the kind of kiss that she would have given him once he’d spent half hour kissing her, the kind of kiss that tended to happen when they were on her couch or against his door or any of the other places that they’d been making out for the past few weeks.

 

Blake’s lips stuttered on hers in surprise, but then met the kiss, bringing his hands up to entwine with both of her hands and bring them up between them. He was grinning through the kiss, and she broke it with a pop. She stood up, looking at Adam (who was staring at them with his mouth wide open), and put on her best mom voice.

 

“Close your mouth, please,” She said matter of factly, and Adam did. Behind her, she heard Blake let out a surprised laugh (she knew his face was probably scrunching in that endearing way it always did); she sat down primly next to Adam and adjusted the folds of her skirt.

 

She saw Adam open his mouth again to say something, and Blake was still laughing. Just then, though, both Carson and Pharell came into the room. Adam was still going to say something, though, she could tell, so she said something to Adam again in her mom voice. “People are coming in,” She said nonchalantly, and she saw Adam close his mouth and cross his arms, pouting a little in the way that reminded her of Apollo when he didn’t get his way.

 

Blake was—for lack of a better word, she couldn’t come up with anything else—sparkly the entire interview. The mirth from her earlier encounter from Adam still shone in his eyes, along with the heat from seeing her in the short skirt (she determined she was going to wear more if that meant that he would keep acting like this; it made her feel so good). He couldn’t stop smiling.

 

“ I’m an emotional girl,” She was saying in response to Carson’s question. Her eyes trained over to Blake, who had the most—-again, she was having trouble expressing what he looked like, all she could think of was that heart eyes emoji she liked to use sometimes— blissful expression on his face. He was tracing his lips with his hand, and he was staring at her like she was his sun.

 

*****

 

Gwen was waiting out by her car after the show, after sending Blake a text.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Dinner? ;).**

 

The buzz had come back a few seconds later.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Absolutely. But can we have do it at your house? I'm pretty wiped from this week and having to wait twelve hours for my plane.  Gimme five.**

 

Gwen smiled, deciding to tease him a little bit.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Do it? Just wut r u proposing B? Gimme a break I'm around two, seven, and nine year olds all the time.**

 

She gets a response a few seconds later.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**HA!!! ill do “it” whenever you want darling.**

 

She blushed at the darling, and felt her body break out in goosebumps. 

 

“Give it a rest Gwen you’re not fifteen,” She murmured to herself, trying to will away the heat that was creeping down to her core. She swore, she didn’t know what he did to her. _From very little sex drive to wanting my fingers in myself all the time,_ she thought dryly. 

 

“Who’s not fifteen?” She heard, and her head snapped up to see Adam standing there. She blushed deeply, looking around for Blake. _Nowhere, shit,_ she thought.

 

“No one,” She said gently, fidgeting back and forth and fiddling with her keys. The night was warm, but she felt a chill come over her body. “Have a good night Adam,” She said pointedly, hoping that he would take the hint and go away. Adam, little shit that he was sometimes though, just crossed his arms, lifting an eyebrow at her as if to say _oh please._

 

“What’s going on between you and Blake?” Adam suddenly asked, blunt as always. Gwen fidgeted, looking at the ground. She cleared her throat, rubbing a hand over her nose in the way she did whenever she got embarrassed.

 

“ We’re…” Mortifyingly, her voice squeaked a little, and she had to swallow the other squeaks down so she didn’t sound like Mickey Mouse, “ We’re spending time together.” She said simply, letting her hands fall to her legs with a small smack. Adam stared at her, implacable, for a few seconds. Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Blake at the other end of the parking lot, walking towards them. The parking lot was huge ,and they had a few moments, so Gwen shrugged. Adam looked over to where she was looking and saw Blake too, and he started to leave. But, he turned around and spoke to her.

 

“ Look, I like you a lot Gwen but Blake’s my best friend. The whole thing with Miranda really hurt him. He, like,” Adam fidgeted, reminding her of a little boy when he was embarrassed, “ he falls with his whole heart. So don’t hurt him.” Adam said, turning to leave for real now. Gwen, in another moment of boldness that she’d overanalyze later, grasped the lower half of Adam’s arm for a minute. 

 

“ I couldn’t make myself hurt him if I tried,” Gwen said gently, looking into Adam’s eyes and willing him with her whole heart to believe her. Adam looked at her for a few more long seconds (that felt like years to Gwen) and then, surprisingly hugged her deeply. She hugged him back, a little hesitantly.

 

“ Im happy for you then,” Adam said, smiling in that little boy way he had. Gwen tried to will the tears away from her eyes and couldn’t stop the huge grin on her face. They broke the hug, and Adam let out a little wave, walking past Blake who was approaching them and punching him in the arm. Blake slapped Adam upside the head in response, and they exchanged a few words before Blake came over to her. He stood with his hands in his pockets, as close as he could be without touching her, and grinned a little gently at her.

 

“What’s up?” He said softly, and she grinned at him (she didn’t know at that moment that it was the happiest grin Blake had ever seen from her and that she practically lit up his heart with it), before leaning up and smooshing kisses into his cheek.She brought his hand up to her mouth out of his pocket to kiss, and then beamed at him.

 

“Let’s go,” She said playfully, and he grinned at her with his dimples, taking in her face, and nodded. The minute she started the car, his hand was on one of hers and his thumb was stroking over the back of her hand. The ache was fully gone now, and she was suffused with warmth, like she was surrounded in her favorite blanket, on the couch with her family, full and sleepy, and she thought for a second of something else she’d have to write down when she got home.

 

This is what the truth feels like. 

 

 

 

 


	13. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Gwen and Blake take their relationship one step further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, a little housekeeping note. It seemed like a few people were confused about Chapter 12’s Author’s Note being replaced by an actual written chapter last Sunday. Well, I did that! So, if you haven’t read that one yet, go back and do that first, otherwise you’re going to be like “ well that escalated quickly…” to this chapter. Second, a note about this chapter. We have now reached the portion of the story where the porn begins. This story is about plot more than porn, but there’s obviously sex involved in their relationship and i’m going to write about it because I have no shame. Finally, I mean no disrespect to these people by writing about this, this is fun nothing more!

It’s two days between when the Battle Rounds and Knockouts film. No one wants to keep the kids who are going home in LA any longer than they have to be; so this way they can go home and not come back again if they’re voted off of the show. Blake hates sending people home; no matter how long he’s done it, he hates it. Because, he hates seeing people’s dreams that they’ve worked so hard for shot to smoke, he hates the idea of people leaving thinking they’re failures who are good at nothing. Because, he remembers struggle. He remembers wanting so badly to be in music but feeling like he was never going to get there. He remembers watching his idols like Trace Adkins and trying to picture himself there someday, with a screaming crowd full of fans and a chance to do what he loved every night for the rest of his life.

 

It’s harder still to send people home during the Knockouts; harder than it has been so far. Because, he’s been getting to know these people and in most cases like them, and he’s taught them and counseled them a little and gotten to see little wonderful glimpses of their personalities shining through the nervousness they still experience when dealing with a celebrity. He remembers the first season had been the worst; he’d actually gone to his trailer to cry afterwards, picturing the fifteen year old in foster care he’d sent home because she had totally choked in her performance (he’d pictured her tearstained face and her resigned eyes, like she was thinking _of course I get sent home, i’m a failure at every other aspect of life I might as well fail at this too_ ). He’d guarded his heart a little more since then, but it still sent a pang through him every time he had to send someone home. Especially the kids.

 

Except this year, things are a little different. In all of the past seasons, he’s been alone. Miranda had never understood his emotional attachment to people he hardly knew (she had emotional attachment, but it was to the people she’d known most of her life, not her students or anyone she mentored), and after the first season and her stern talk about not getting so down about something so trivial he’d learned not to tell her about it. Sometimes, he’d had Adam, but Adam in his worst was a little self-centered and didn’t give with his whole heart the way Blake did. Again, he didn’t have that emotional attachment that Blake did. 

 

But now he has Gwen. Gwen, who’d texted him during the first break of her team’s Battle Round filming and asked him if she could meet him outside for a few minutes. He’d gone, bewildered, and she’d practically buried her face in his chest as she cried. He was a little puzzled at first, running hand up and down her back, and she’d looked up at him with tearstained eyes and told him that she _hate hate hated_ to send people home. She’d said she felt like she was crushing their dreams, and she remembers because she struggled for so long to get where she is and she’s afraid she crushed their path to success in doing what they loved for the rest of their lives. The wording is so similar to the thoughts that have been coursing through Blake’s brain the past four and a half years, the emotions she’s feeling so in sync with his, that he can’t help but get a little emotional too, and he tucks her close and tells her how he’s always felt. She’d stuck her hands in his back pockets, and they’d swayed their bodies for a few moments in a parody of a dance until they were called back inside by a loudspeaker announcement. 

 

The bottom line is, he’s slowly realizing that he thinks he might have met someone who gets it, who gets _him_ in a way no one ever has. It scares him to death most of the time, because he thought Miranda got him (if he’s honest he realizes that he pretended like Miranda got him when she really didn't most of the time; he saw their relationship as one of yin and yang, their personalities being so different that they balanced each other out. But she wasn’t similar to him, not really). But, then, there are times Gwen will _say things she’s thinking_ , and it’s exactly what he’s been thinking. There are times she will kiss him exactly the way he needs to be kissed, times when she will place slow nibbling kisses on his neck or stroke her tongue over his lips in ways he didn’t even know he needed until she did it. 

 

If he’s honest, if he’s being his caveman self that he tries not to be most of the time, Gwen is just so fucking arousing. Even though he’s had no problem taking it slow (because their hearts needed to heal, his as much as hers although he senses that hers is healing more slowly because she loves with her whole heart and she had loved Gavin with her whole heart), he’s still a man who hasn’t had any sex in too long, and she’s sex on long beautiful pale legs. She’s worn short skirts lately (it’s almost like she could sense he loved it and did it for him; his reaction of _holy hell_ when she’d done it before the interview with Carson probably clued her in), and her hair long, which he loves because it looks thick and wonderful and he wants nothing more than to bury his hands in it. Which he does, repeatedly and tightly anytime they have one of their lovely make out sessions. He’s had more erections with her than he has since he was a teenager, and she never fails to put him on the razor’s edge every time they’re together.

 

They see each other every night between Battle and the two days of Knockout filming, they share some more glorious kisses and Gwen practically falls asleep in his arms out on her balcony on the huge chaise lounge she has (he decides it’s too early to stay, even just to sleep, and she agrees even though they don’t say it. The tension in her frame when she wakes up tells him that. He simply kisses her forehead and tucks her hair behind her ear, telling her that he hopes she has the sweetest of sweet dreams and leaves without another word). 

 

It’s during Knockout filming that something changes. For some reason, this year the eliminations hurt less for him.  He doesn’t feel that urge to cry himself silly anymore, he doesn’t feel that hopelessness that comes from knowing that he killed the dreams of a bunch of kids. It’s still hard, and sad, but not overwhelmingly sad like it had been in the past. When he looks at Gwen the night that it’s her turn, too, he can tell she’s feeling the same thing. She’s sad, and he can see a little sheen of tears in her eyes, but it had been nothing like the first set of Battle Rounds. He cant explain why neither of them are as sad this time; maybe it’s the fact that they’ve both done so much crying lately that they’re all dried out, maybe it’s the fact that they (at least Blake does, he can’t speak for Gwen but he hopes, oh God does hope) for the first time in a long time have a bright shining glimmer of possibility shining before them, a possibility that might involve the two of them together and happier than they ever had been. Maybe it’s the fact that Gwen had told him she’d told Adam and eventually gotten his blessing, maybe it’s the fact that Blake himself had talked with Adam about everything going on and he’d gotten Adam’s blessing back (along with a stern warning not to hurt Gwen because she’s _sensitive and gentle,_ as Adam had phrased it, and Blake had blurted out _I wouldn’t be worth the dirt in the earth if I ever hurt her_. Adam had gotten a soft look on his face for a few moments before pulling his leg about being so overdramatic. Blake had left Adam’s trailer during the break feeling good about his best friend supporting their relationship). But, for whatever, reason the mood has shifted this night. Gwen’s wearing another awesome short skirt, with beautiful high heels, and her hairs long again and beautiful, and he can’t help the way his whole body suffuses with heat every time he looks at her. It’s like lava has been poured into his veins, like there’s a switch she’s flipped inside of him that’s turned him from wanting to be gentle and sweet to wanting nothing more than seeing her face as she comes. He tries to tamp down the feeling, because erections in public places are never good, but it’s hard.

 

He looks at Gwen too much during the show, he knows, but he thinks she might be looking back in the same way. She’d sent him a text during the first little break.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**U looking at me with those sexy blue eyes does not help my concentration.**

 

Blake’s breath had been taken away for a second and he’d glanced sharply over to Gwen as his hand clenched on his phone, but she’d been looking down at her phone, a bit of red staining her cheeks with her lower lip sucked into her mouth. He’d taken a deep breath in, then out, feeling that lava hot feeling in his blood again (and God it had been so long since he’d felt it, but even so he’d never felt it this strong). He’d typed at his phone, his fingers slow and deliberate on the keys.

 

 

 

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**How can I stop when you’re so fucking beautiful?**

 

He’d seen Gwen’s phone buzz, seen her read the text and gasp a little, putting a hand over her mouth. She’d looked at him through the corner of her eye with that beautiful chocolate gaze she had, and he’d met her eyes. She’d blushed, smiling at him and biting her lip, her gaze full of heat. She’d unconsciously licked her lips, and his blood had heated up further. He couldn’t help but picture things then, things like snapshots in his brain over and over again that made him shift in his chair and will his erection down with all of his willpower. 

 

_His hands in her hair pulling a little as he marked her neck._

 

_Her breathy moans in his ear as she rode him on her secluded beachfront balcony outside._

 

_The feeling of her legs around his waist._

 

_Her soft warm core, her wet and ready for him, the smell of her in his nose because she was too turned on._

 

He didn’t even realize he was looking at her until his phone buzzed twice in a row, and he jumped. He opened the first one.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Ur looking at me like you want to undress me, and it’s turning me way on.**

 

Blake’s hand came over his lips, and he stared down at the phone as he tried to will the heat in his blood away. _Down boy down_ he said to himself, willing his breathing back to normal. He opened the second text from Adam.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Adam**

 

**Dude, you're looking at Gwen like you guys are gonna start doing it onstage. PG, dipshit.**

 

Blake felt his face heat up and quickly deleted the message. Just then, his phone buzzed again.

 

 

 

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**omigod i cant believe I said that. Can u just delete it from ur brain please?**

 

Blake looked over to Gwen, who was pinching the bridge of her nose with her hand as she texted. Just then, she looked up and caught his eye, and he smiled at her, a smile he knew was full of heat and dimples. He bit his lip a little and mouthed at her. _You’re hot._ She laughed a little, shaking her head and leaning back, her face and neck bright red. 

 

*****

 

Blake was putting stuff in his bag to get ready to go to Gwen’s. She was going to meet him by her car like they usually did. Just then, there was a quick knock on his trailer door. He groaned a little, because all he could think of was Gwen’s lips and her legs and her hair (he knew she was thinking of it too; they hadn’t shared any more texts but they’d given each other the most heated looks all night). He zipped his bag shut, sighing, and walked to the door, adjusting the baseball hat on his head. 

 

As soon as he opened it, he saw Gwen standing there, her purse on her shoulder and all of her stage makeup still on, red lipstick, taping outfit, and all. He tilted his head a little in puzzlement, because she was going to be getting changed before they left, a small smile on his face (because there was this glow about her tonight, a glow that had been there all night and had not helped that heat running through his veins, but it was stronger now and more electric than it had been before; he couldn’t help but smile even as he tilted his head and smiled).

 

Before he knew it, then, he was _oofing,_ because she practically threw herself into his arms, one of her legs coming up around his waist to pull her groin against his and her lips meeting his in a fire-filled kiss. Her tongue entered his mouth immediately, using his open mouth as canvas for her tongue painting patterns in his mouth. For a second, his hands were frozen in surprise right over her waist. After a second, though, the feeling of her tongue in his mouth took over his senses and he groaned, low in his throat. The tension that had been brewing between them exploded, like it would when two currents met, like lightening then thunder, like waves crashing into a shore on a windy foggy day. He lifted hands under her thighs, encouraging them to wrap around his waist. She practically leaped into his arms, wrapping her arms tight tight around his neck and then knocking his hat off of his head to slot her hands in his hair.

 

She pulled a little, and he felt the slight pain go straight to his cock, the feeling of her nails in his scalp making him shiver. His lips stuttered on hers, and she sucked at his tongue. He lifted one hand off of her thigh to shut the trailer door behind them, and couldn’t help but press her against it. She whimpered, low in her throat and stuttered her hands up and down his back, her nails scratching at the material ever so slightly. 

 

“ God i’m so hot for you,” Gwen said, breaking away to whimper lowly and mewl at him. Blake groaned then, a low growly sound, and nuzzled at her neck, biting sharply at the skin and then sucking at it. The slightly nip made her whimper, and the sound went to his cock again (God he’d never been so hard in his entire life). 

 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Blake murmured into her lips before sucking at them lightly, giving her messy kiss after messy kiss. There was such desperation in their kisses, in the movements of their hands, in the way their groins ground against each other slightly even with the lack of leverage with Gwen’s legs around his waist. Gwen whimpered again, nodding her head desperately and cupping both of his cheeks with her hand so she could trace the inside of his mouth methodically with her toungue. Each stroke combined with the slow movement of her hands on his face sent jolts of electricity directly to his cock and broke him out in goosebumps; he wasn’t sure how much longer his legs would hold them up. 

 

He spread his broad hands on her back then, lifting her back up slightly again so he could take them to the small couch in his trailer. He flopped himself down on it, letting Gwen fall onto his lap. She made an _oof_ sound of surprise and hesitates her lips on his a little. 

 

“ Am I… Am I squishing you,” She said, breaking away from his lips with a loud suckling sound. He shook his head vehemently, pulling her closer by her hips until there wasn’t an inch of space between them. 

 

“ God you make me so hot,” Blake said lowly, his voice cracked and gravely. Gwen stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open and her lips swollen. Her red lipstick had smeared around her mouth, and her face was a little shiny. She was beautiful. 

 

“Oh my god your voice,” Gwen said shrilly, biting her lips and staring in his eyes. He stared back (and there was emotion there too, but a heat like he’d ever seen before, like fire, like lava, like acid rain, like a tornado washing over a small town). He swallowed deeply as he looked at her, and pulled her closer. She gasped, and he knew she was feeling his cock even under the thick denim of his jeans. 

 

Just then, the smell of her through her short skirt that had ridden up a little hit him, and he groaned, feeling his cock jump in his pants. God, she was drenched. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck_ was all he could think, as his hands leapt to her hips, pulling her into him. She gaped and then threw her head back with a loud whimper, baring her throat for him as she ground into his hips. He nodded, his hands clenching, and kept pulling her in. His lips went to her throat, kissing and biting at the skin with her head still thrown back and her hips still grinding on his. 

 

It was a low, slow ground that sent bolts of electricity through him every time she ground down with a circular roll of her hips, and it got faster and faster as she started to tremble. “Oh _god yes,”_ She whimpered, and he pulled her into a breathy, artless kiss as his hands tangled in her long hair. He pulled slightly at the strands and she yelped a little, her hips stuttering on his.

 

“ You’re so beautiful,” He groaned at her, and she kissed him harder.

 

The movements of hands in her hair brought her hips grinding faster against his, and he felt his hips start to stutter up in an effort to get more pressure.

 

They were totally silent now, the only noises the wet sounds of their lips together and the panting of their breaths when they had to break for air. 

 

His hands came up to her breasts now, and he hesitated a little at the side of her breasts. Gwen seemed to sense his hesitation, because she took her hands out of his hair and brought them to cup her breasts, nodding through their kisses. He groaned again, his hips stuttering up, and cupped them, squeezing slightly and feeling her whimper and moan into his mouth. 

 

His thumbs traced over her erect nipples then, and she stuttered her lips, her mouth opening on a gasp. Her hips ground faster now, a frantic desperate pace, and she brought her hands to the back of the couch to clench at the material. Blake forced his eyes to open and looked at her. She was flushed and sweaty, her hair messed up and her lipstick smeared over a lot of her face. She had never looked better. He watched as her face clenched and wrinkled in pleasure as she ground down.

 

“ Are you close to coming darlin’? “He asked into her ear, after kissing wetly up her neck. She leaned into the caress and then moaned a little, grinding her hips repeatedly onto his. She gasped, her breath stuttering, and then nodded. He looked her up and down over and over again as his hips pushed up; he wanted to watch her. “Come for me, beautiful,” He murmured in her ear, sucking a little at it. At that moment, all he wanted was to see her come, see her lose her mind, know that he brought her over to the edge and tipped her into the deep dark abyss (because he already had never been so aroused in his life or seen anything more beautiful). 

 

He recognized when it happened. Her hips moved fast and then stuttered, her whole body shuddered and trembled, she threw her head back as he bit at her pulse point  and sucked a mark into the skin. “ Fuck!” She said, letting out breathy whimpers as he practically felt her clench. He kept her gently grinding against his lap until she came down with shivers, upon which point he slowly stilled her and stroked a hand over her hair.

 

He leaned up to kiss her, cupping her face and stroking his thumbs over her cheeks. She barely met his lips, just pursing her lips a little breathlessly, and he grinned to himself (he had to admit, he hadn’t felt so pleased with himself in a long time because he really made her fall apart, he really made this beautiful radiant goddess lose it in front of him.

 

He got to see her relaxed and loose limbed for around a minute, before he felt the tension start to sink in her frame and her face paled. She whimpered miserably, and started to get off of his lap. But, he held her there with stroking hands to her hip. She then brought one hand to her forehead.

 

 “ Oh my god I can’t believe I did that, oh my god,” Gwen repeated over and over again, her face pale then red with embarassment. She was looking anywhere but him (and that really just was not ok), so he cupped her cheeks, turning her chin to face him.

 

“ Hey,” He said softly, and she still tried to avoid his eyes by closing hers, “ Hey beautiful woman,” He said again, just as gently, and her eyes snapped to his. She was almost holding her breath, waiting to hear what he had to say. He knew he had to be careful, knew he had to choose his words very carefully lest he spook or further embarrass this absolutely radiant shooting star and the best thing to happen to him in a long time. He took a deep breath, “ That,” he said, stroking his fingers over her cheeks, “ Was the sexiest thing i’ve ever seen in my life,” he said firmly and my God did he ever mean it (that picture of her, with her head thrown back and her whole entire body shuddering and her mouth letting out this perfect gasps and half whimpers; that picture would be stuck in his brain for eternity). Gwen bit her lip, her mouth smeared cherry red. She had lipstick all over her face, her face was sweaty and shiny, her mascara had started to run, but my God was she beautiful. Blake had never seen anything like it. 

 

Gwen just stared at him, her lower lip sucked into her mouth. He met her eyes fully, trying to tell her with his eyes how truthful he was being, how good he would be to her if she just gave him a chance, how wonderful the two of them could be together, like two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly to make up a whole. 

 

Whatever she saw in his eyes she must have loved because she smiled a little watery, grabbing his hand off of her cheek and kissing the palm of his hand (his heart stuttered; God he was falling so fast). Her smile shifted then, became one a little dirtier and a little naughty (it reminded him of that smile she’d given him during the text message exchanges during the show, and he felt that lava feeling in his veins again). She brought her hand down then to his pants, where she unbuttoned and unzipped the jeans. He tried to stop her hand, telling her with his eyes that she didn’t have to (because he wanted to go at her speed and if she wasn’t ready she wasn’t ready)

but she ever so gently slapped his hand away, leaning in for a long slow kiss. “Let me,” She murmured into his lips. His resistance melted then, and he let himself become lost in the feeling of her lips. 

 

She broke away for a second, and he pouted, pursing his lips and trying to reach out for her again, but she grabbed his hand as soon as it reached for her hair to tug her in for a kiss. He let out an unconsciously frustrated noise (because her lips were _right there_ and he needed them like he needed oxygen), and she bit her lip and grinned a little. She leaned in then, and he smiled, thinking he was going to get his kiss. But, she just kissed against his cheek, her nose squishing against his face. He couldn’t help but smile though, and he leaned his head back as she skirted kisses down his neck, nipping a little at the skin. 

 

She started to get off his lap then, and before he realized what was happening she was sliding down to her knees and pulling his pants down his thighs. His mouth dropped open (because he expected a wonderful yet little bit shy hand job; this was a welcome surprise) and he grabbed her hands, getting her attention.

 

“Y…” Blake’s voice was cracked and gravely with arousal, “ you don’t hafta,” She looked at him, her gaze steamy and warm. She bit her lip again and then let her tongue trace over them, he followed the motion raptly. 

 

“ I want to,” She said firmly, and she leaned in to kiss him, a soft slow thing. He nodded when she broke away, and she nosed at his groin (and there was the shyness, the hesitation that came with a first time, but he knew that it would be the best he ever had because she seemed to know him without even trying).

 

When she finally licked the tip, a soft slow caress, his hips arched off of the couch and he fucked into her mouth a little too deep, causing her to cough. “ Shit,” He gasped, gripping the couch cushions so hard he felt like there would be marks left on the material forever, “ Sorry, sorry,” He   murmured, willing his hips to stay still (because he had never lasted long like this and already he could tell he was going to last as long as a teenage boy in the backseat of a car). She looked up at him with his cock in her mouth and smiled with her eyes, pulling his hands into her hair and breaking off to murmur.

 

“ It’s ok, you can pull you know, I like it,” She murmured, and he dug his finger  a little into the thick blonde strands. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she returned to sucking, soft little sucks interspersed with beautiful licks and wet mouth that made his eyes roll back in his head. She would meet his eyes almost the entire time, giving him a particularly mind-blowing movement of her tongue coupled with a heated gaze that made his entire body flame more than it already was. He’d always had a thing for eye contact, liked looking at the honest arousal in his partners eyes and the way that their eyes were a window to the soul, and it looked like Gwen was no different, because she would let out these little whimpers overtime he turned his heated gaze on her and they locked eyes. 

 

In too short of a time, Blake felt electricity shoot up his spine and his hips try to thrust despite the control he was exerting over him. He recognized the warning signs of a mind-blowing orgasm. His hips wanted to thrust into the warm heat, wanted to be a little too rough and not care, but he didn’t want to hurt her, “ _Fuck,_ hold my hips down,” He said brokenly, throwing his head back and letting out a loud groan. It didn’t help when she made a questioning noise as if she hadn’t heard him, and the vibrations sent sparks up his spine and rendered his brain completely useless. “ I… _oh god…_ don’t want to choke you; hold my hips down,” He stuttered out, and he felt her small hands come around to hold his hips. He knew that if he really wanted to, he could overpower her, but her hands acted as a sort of reminder to him to keep in under control, and he was able to keep from thrusting too much.

 

“ _F…”_ He stuttered out, his brain suffused with pleasure and heat and warmth. His hands took tight hold of her hair, and tried to pull her off slightly (because it wasn’t polite to just come in someone’s mouth without permission and as much as he wanted to he didn’t know if they were there yet). “Gwen, _fuck.. i’m…”_ He started, trying his hardest to pull her off, but she gave him a look and shook her head, telling him _I want it_ with her eyes.

 

He didn’t have much time to overanalyze the statement, because within seconds he was coming harder than he ever had in his life, feeling his body spasm and his brain turn to absolute mush. He recognized he was pulling a little hard, recognized his voice groaning, recognized his body doubling over a little.

 

When he came to again, it was to the sight of fucking Gwen Stefani looking right into his eyes as she visibly swallowed, licking her lips. His mouth gaped open, and within seconds he was pulling her back in his lap, swallowing her growing embarrassment (because he saw it; he saw the _I can’t believe I just did that_ coming and he was going cut it off at the pass this time) with his mouth and his tongue, tasting himself. 

 

“ You’re wonderful,” He found himself saying against her lips, and her blush and pleased look was worth all the money in the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your comments and keep them coming! I will see you all on Sunday :). Just FYI, i'm leaving for vacation next Thursday through Sunday, so I am going to try to post a chapter on Sunday, a Chapter on Tuesday, and a Chapter on Wednesday. The key word here is try, because I don't want to churn out substandard stuff just to get it done. So, bear with me next week. You will see chapters!


	14. Whiplash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second day of Knockouts bring new experiences for Blake and Gwen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. I first wanted to apologize for not uploading on Sunday. Here's the thing. I am extraordinarily busy in my real life, especially lately. As a result, I was feeling extraordinarily anxious and stressed about not being able to write enough to upload on Sunday. And I don't want to leave you all hanging. So, as a result, I will now only be uploading once a week. I just think that that is a more reasonable time schedule given the constraints of my real life; and that way I will actually be able to churn out quality work that is done on a timely manner. I hope you all understand!

There was no doubt about it; Gwen was experiencing whiplash. She’d (thank God) never been in a  car accident, but she’d heard about the phenomenon where if you’re jerked forward as you hit something or something hits you, you might jar your neck or your back or have a horrible seatbelt mark on your chest for the next week. Jen had been seriously rear ended and had complained of whiplash for at least a week; she’d also had bruises all over her body and been sore. Even to this day, Jen had told Gwen that when she closed her eyes sometimes, she could still feel herself being jerked forward by the momentum of the car that had hit her going fifty miles and hour, the way her neck had snapped forward and her whole body had stiffened.

 

Other than the soreness, Gwen fit all the symptoms of whiplash after that first time Blake made her come (well, Blake in person, she’d admit only to her journal that she’d touched herself too much to thoughts of him and her orgasms at his picture were always always good). Her whole body was slightly stiff and switched on, her mind whirling and swirling with thoughts of what had happened earlier that day in his trailer, the way she’d thrown herself at him and ground herself on his lap, the feeling of his large slightly callused hands (and callused from hard work and life, not from weight machines or fancy equipment like Gavin’s had been) over her breasts, the way he’d demanded (almost out of desperation) that she hold his hips down so he didn’t choke her, everything. When she closed her eyes, she still could conjure up memories of how powerful her orgasm had been and how breathless she was afterwards (that she would really experience her first really good one in forty-five years just from grinding on someone’s lap was really incredible but that wasn’t something she was going to analyze right now). Her body could arch at a moment’s notice like it had earlier that day, her head could throw back, she could feel the phantom burn of his scruff on her neck and could feel the drip of the sweat down the back of her hairline even after she’d taken a long cold shower. 

 

Gwen was whiplashed, she was overwhelmed, she was happy and sad and mourning the fact that she’d never felt anything like that in her forty-six years until now, she was everything. Laying in her bed that night at around one in the morning, her hands underneath her head and her legs spread out like a starfish (that had been one of the good things about not having to share a bed anymore; she liked the fact that she could sprawl), the moonlight illuminating a shadow in her room, the sound of the sea through her slightly open window echoing the tumultuous train of her thoughts, Gwen was feeling all and everything too much at once. 

 

Laying there biting her lip, she almost regretted going home after what had happened with them. At the moment, though, she’d felt she’d needed to. He’d kissed her breathless to stop her self consciousness after he’d come in her mouth, he’d kissed her until she was tingling again and until his hands were cupping her face and her thumbs were tracing patterns down the sides of his neck. They’d sat there, then, for long minutes, her legs bent bracketing his lap again their breathing slowing down in rhythm with the tick of the clock in the tiny trailer. Gwen had then become aware of the trickle of sweat on her face, the fact that her makeup was caking off and her mascara was forming little panda rings around her eyes, the way her hair was sticking to the back of her neck slightly. She’d blushed and tried not to get her sweat all over Blake, who was like a hot furnace beneath her (she could smell a little bit of his sweat, too, mixed with this sweet pine scent that seemed to be his aftershave and dear God it was addicting). He’d been gently nuzzling his nose into her neck, his hands stroking over her cheeks and letting out these contented little noises every once in awhile. 

 

“You should come home with me,” Blake’s soft drawl (a little hoarse, like he was still affected and oh god if that didn’t make her want to go again she didn’t know what would) sounded throughout the silence of the room. He kept nuzzling into her neck as he said it, and he alternated soft kisses up and down on the skin, making Gwen tilt her head a little and let out soft half-hitching breaths. The words registered with Gwen, then, and she surprisingly found herself stiffening slightly, her hands freezing from where they’d been tracing patterns on the sides of Blake’s own neck. He hadn’t noticed at first, too busy nuzzling soft smooches into her skin, but then his lips had frozen and his hands had come down to hang in the air a little uselessly, and he’d looked up at her. His eyes had been uncertain and his smile had been a little cautious, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to say something. “D..Do you not want to?” Blake asked softly, his voice unsure. Gwen bit her lip (trying to ignore the way his voice had wavered a little bit, the uncertain glint in his eye, the way his hands curled towards her like they ached to touch hers but wasn’t sure if he was allowed), and slowly (very very slowly) shook her head.  Blake’s face fell, and she could feel his body tense under hers. She saw him swallow, once, twice, and then nod a little, giving her a smile that was all (semi) fake understanding and no dimples. “Um.. ok, well—“ His voice had been almost like a little boy’s who'd been told that his favorite toy was being taken away, and Gwen had (without thinking) cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. His eyes had been grey-blue and a little sad, and he’d looked at her a little rapt but a little uncertain.

 

“Look, like, i’m just not ready,” She said softly, and he looked at her for a few minutes before nodding. She felt the need to continue though (if only to get that semi-crestfallen unsure expression off of his face), so she stroked her hands through his hair, enjoying the way he let out a deep sigh and his eyes tried to flutter shut. “I’m not ready to spend the night yet…” Gwen continued, letting the tips of her nails scratch through his scalp a little. His eyes opened quickly, then, and he stared at her. Going on instinct now (because this was totally uncharted territory for her, reassuring a man, and how the hell was she supposed to do it, how was she supposed to say _my ex did a number on me I think or maybe i’ve just always been this way and even though i really like you i don't know that i want you to see me for real with no makeup and greasy half bed hair and see me totally naked because i’ve had three kids and it shows_ ), she leaned forward to kiss him on the nose, resting her forehead against his briefly. She felt him relax at the word _yet_ and relax more at the gentle kiss, and she smiled at him softly when they got far enough apart so they could look at each other, a smile he returned (this time with dimples, and they made her heart putter). 

 

“Ok.” He said with finality, bringing her hands up where they were entwined with his to kiss them. “ Ok,” He said after kissing the fingertips. “When you’re ready, ok.” He drawled. It was less a question requiring an answer and more a demonstration of his intention, and her eyes had filled a little because he was so _sweet_ sometimes. 

 

So, she’d left him with nothing more than a few soft kisses, going out to her car, starting it, driving to her house, keying in the door code, taking a shower, changing into her pajamas, getting into bed, on autopilot (because even though it was early, only nine, bed seemed like the best place to be; she needed to think and plus she was exhausted). 

 

Gwen lay there, with the moonlight and her starfish legs and her thoughts whirling about her head and the whiplash feeling in her chest, and looked up at the ceiling. She tried to come up with an explanation as to why she felt like she wasn’t ready for him to spend the night, tried to put the tornado of her thoughts into words, but she couldn’t. She thought so hard that she fell asleep, her eyes fluttering shut longer and longer until they were shut for real. _Please no dreams tonight, please let me sleep_ were her last thoughts before she slept, the sound of the ocean the only thing breaking the silence of the room.

 

******

 

The sunlight making its way into her room woke Gwen up the next morning. Her eyes fluttered open and she unclenched her hands from where they were on her pillow, and she stretched her toes and then her arms up above her head. For a second, in that magical moment of the morning where anything is possible and all is bliss, she let a smile escape onto her face, as she pictured maybe one day waking up with Blake. As soon as she woke up for real, though, she blushed, bringing a hand to cover her eyes as she thought about the way she’d acted last night.  Before she could talk herself out of it (she knew that part of this insecurity was her ex-husband, but it’s not like she could turn it off and she needed to know that he still wanted her because what if he didn’t then where would she be and what would happen; she’d be heartbroken again she knew she would), she grabbed her phone, noting with a slightly open mouth that it was after ten in the morning. She pulled up Blake in her contacts list, opened the text message app, and began to type.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**hey sry for acting like a slut last night.**

 

The message came almost immediately (it was almost, almost, almost like he’d been waiting for a message, like he’d been sitting by his phone and had grabbed it in a hurry just because he thought it might be her; probably unlikely but it was a nice dream to have anyways).

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Please don’t ever call yourself that. Not ok.**

 

Gwen bit her lip as she read the message, and her fingers hovered over the keys, wondering what to type. Before she could do anything, though, her phone buzzed again. 

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**You were beautiful. You’re so gorgeous.**

 

Gwen blushed as she read, feeling a smile come to her face at the message even as that whiplash feeling came back too. _God he’s amazing and I don’t even know how to handle it,_ she thought. Before she could think too hard (because she was a master at that, at over-analysis and worrying herself sick), she typed.

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**Come over 4 dinner tonight, and….**

 

She let the dots intimate the words that she couldn’t say. She tapped her nail against the phone nervously as she waited for message back, still laying on her side half curled around her pillow. She felt almost in a dream state, like she was suspended between reality and fantasy, dream and wakefulness, but yet there was a nervousness suffusing throughout her frame that she couldn’t stop, a feeling of being overwhelmed, a feeling that whatever happened she was going to do something to screw this, _them,_ up. Just then, her phone buzzed.

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**If you’re not ready Gwen that’s ok… I meant it before.**

 

Gwen typed back quickly. 

 

**To: Blake**

**From: Gwen**

 

**No srsly. Come over 2night. Pls ;).**

 

She sent the text with a light-heartedness she didn’t feel (because she wanted to be happy and fun, not this person that overanalyzed everything and worried about whether the sun was going to come up in the morning like she did now). Her phone buzzed.

 

 

 

**To: Gwen**

**From: Blake**

 

**Looking forward to it. A lot. See you at tapings tonight though. Wear something beautiful please. Well pretty much anything, because you’d look good in a potato sack, but maybe shouldn’t wear a potato sack. Though if anyone could make it look fashionable i’m sure you could.**

 

As Gwen read his text, she started laughing, and by the end was covering her face with her hand as she laughed and laughed. It was the perfect start to her morning, setting up something to look forward to with a bit of levity, and she stretched a little before getting out of bed, deciding to make herself a great breakfast before getting started with her day. 

 

******

 

The laughter had helped Gwen gain some confidence (laughter did that to her, sometimes, oddly enough), and when she saw Blake getting out of his hired car in the parking lot, she couldn’t help it. He was fiddling with a bag on his shoulder and his phone at the same time, and he was totally distracted. As much as she could, she snuck up behind him, leaning forward against his back to wrap her arms around his upper shoulders. She kissed his shirt clad back briefly as she felt him stiffen, and then smiled as she heard him inhale a soft breath.

 

“What have I told you about doing that in public, Adam?” Blake teasingly said. Gwen let out a full laugh then, gripping the material of his shirt in her hands slightly. Before she could catch her breath, he was turning and wrapping his arms slightly around her waist, kissing her forehead after looking around to see if anyone else was in the parking lot. She closed her eyes and leaned into it, smiling slightly. 

 

“ You’d better not be doing that to anyone else but me,” Gwen said semi-firmly, a soft smile still on her face. Some of her insecurities must have slipped through, though (they slipped through at the weirdest moments, when she wasn’t even trying, they were just so ingrained into her by now), because he was cupping her face and stroking hands through her hair, leading her to open her eyes. She stared up at him, stared at his sincere blue eyes, and he smiled a soft dimply smile at her.

 

“ No one but you,” Blake said, and the truth and honesty to his words took her breath away. She couldn't do anything then but stare at him with her mouth slightly open, and they stood like that for a few moments. Gwen was just about to kiss him (people be damned; they were two single people who had the right to do whatever they wanted including kissing each other in the parking lot if they wanted to) when she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and she ran a hand down Blake’s arm before reaching into her pocket for her phone. 

 

 _Gavin,_ the contact screen read, and Gwen unconsciously stepped away from Blake a couple of feet, biting her lip and feeling her smile disappear (what she didn’t see, though, was that Blake’s smile also disappeared a little, and he looked to her phone and her a couple of times like he wanted to ask her who it was but wasn’t sure he had the right. Nor did she see him eventually stuff his hands in his pockets and fidget a little, trying to stay out of her conversation but being unbelievably curious at the same time). 

 

“Hello?” Gwen said into the phone, her voice a little tense. 

 

“ Mommy!” She heard, and she furrowed her brow at hearing her oldest child on the other end. They hadn’t given the boys cell phones yet (and weren’t going to for a long time, if Gwen had anything to say about it), but it was still unusual that Kingston would be calling from Gavin’s phone in the late afternoon like this. 

 

“ Hi King baby, is everything ok?” Gwen asked, biting her lip a little. In the background, she heard Apollo’s toddler babble and Zuma saying something, along with some thumps. 

 

“ Daddy’s sick and he says he needs to bring us with you for the week instead of him,” Kingston said, getting right to the point and speaking seriously. There was a hint of worry and weary in his voice though, hints that Gwen didn’t like in a child. She twirled around a little, starting to pace in the parking lot, her phone pressed firmly to her ear. 

 

“ Daddy’s sick? What does he have baby?” Gwen asked.

 

“ I dunno but he’s real hot and he’s cold at the same time,” Kingston said, sounding worried. Gwen exhaled a little in relief, _only a fever, nothing serious._ “Rosa is sick too with the stomach flu Mommy. Can we come back with you while Daddy and Rosa get better?” Gwen nodded, and then spoke.

 

“ Of course baby, can you have Daddy bring you to the Voice set as soon as he can. I’ll call Anna and Anna can come stay with you while i’m working and then we’ll go home, okay?’ Gwen said gently. Kingston agreed, and not long after they hung up after Gwen talked to Gavin and agreed that they were going to meet Gwen at the set in fifteen minutes. 

 

As soon as Gwen hit “End Call” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. She felt Blake’s presence behind her then, and she turned to him with a contrite expression (because she was ruining their evening _again)._ He tilted his head slightly at her, his hands still in his pockets.

 

“ Everythin’ ok?” He asked softly, and Gwen swallowed and shook her head.

 

“Gavin’s sick and he has to bring the kids here to stay with me for the week instead of with him,” Gwen said tiredly, sighing again. Blake nodded (but she saw there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes that he couldn’t hide). 

 

“Ok,” Blake said simply, taking one of his hands out of his pockets to run it down her arm. She shivered a little (because that tingling whiplash feeling was back even as she was disappointed; she was looking forward to being playful and potentially having him spend the night tonight, not this). She stepped closer to him then, looking in his eyes.

 

“ I’m sorry i’m, like, ruining our evening again,” She said, tilting her head slightly at him. He shook his head in understanding.

 

“ No it’s ok, I get it,” Blake said softly, and when she looked in his eyes, Gwen thought that he might just get it. She couldn’t help it then. She looked around (it was early yet; looks like they had both been anxious to get to the set and see each other; a quick surreptitious glance down at her phone said that the others probably wouldn’t arrive for another half hour), and then saddled up to him, tucking her nose into his neck. 

 

“ I was looking forward to tonight, like, so much,” Gwen said, her voice coming out a little whiny. Blake chuckled a little and Gwen smiled, and he wrapped his hands around her back, his hands stroking up and down the small. 

 

“ Me too,” Blake said, kissing the side of her head. Gwen let herself get lost in his smell, the feel of his arms around her, the intoxicating whiplash ocean sea feeling she got around him. 

 

His neck was right there though, and looked so perfect to kiss, and before she knew it she was nuzzling into his neck, her nose squishing against the skin. She heard Blake above her let out little inhaled breaths every time she did it, and he tilted his head back ever so slightly to give her better access. Her eyes closed (because she was consumed by him), she couldn’t help it (because his skin was right there and even through the scruff it was so soft and warm); she started pressing soft kisses into the skin, working her way from side to side along the base of his neck. She heard him gasp a little then, and his hands froze on his back when her teeth ever so gently scraped at his skin. They tightened on her back then, and she felt him shudder ever so slightly. 

 

She nosed her way up his neck, taking her hand and putting it in his curls and pulling his head down so she could whisper in his ear (she was working on that whiplash feeling this time; working on instinct and the power of her own feelings, trying for one goddamn minute to turn her brain off). “ I’m horny Blake,” She whined in his ear, sucking a kiss behind it and arching her hips slightly into his. She heard and felt his low soft groan in the back of his throat, and he gripped at her shirt, pulling it up ever so slightly so he could rest hands on skin. She shivered, whining ever so softly. 

 

She pulled at his own shirt a little right there in the parking lot, getting underneath it enough to rest her hand on the small of his back, her fingertips into the skin ever so slightly. Blake groaned full throated then, pulling his hands up to her hair and tugging at the strands. She opened her eyes slightly and gasped at what she saw. His eyes were arousal bright, his face a picture of a man driven to the brink, his gaze rapt only on her (and it was incredible). She dug her fingers into the small of his back again and his mouth opened slightly. 

 

“H—“ Blake started, but his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. Gwen felt her arousal ramp up a notch (because seeing how turned on he was for her was pretty incredible, when she thought about it). “How long did you say we had?” His voice was low and graveled, and Gwen swallowed her gasp. 

 

“ Fifteen minutes, “ Gwen said, her voice breathy. Blake’s hands tightened in her hair and hers on the small of his back, and then he was breaking away to grab her hand and pull her along.

 

“C’mon,” Blake said, pulling her. He walked with purpose (if anyone had been there, they would have walked away, that was the determination that his walk demonstrated that day). Gwen couldn’t do anything but follow along, her whole body on a live-wire and goosebumps forming over her skin.

 

He lead them to her trailer, where he motioned for her to unlock the door (she did, looking at him kind of puzzled, unsure what he has planned but knowing she’s going to like it whatever it is). He held the now open door for her, and she walked through it. He closed it behind them, locking it as she turned around to look at him, her face puzzled. 

 

He virtually prowled towards her, his face completely serious aroused. She let her mouth fall open (because she’d never seen that look from him, and it was turning her on beyond belief because she’d always liked a little dominating in bed and this was… perfect). He got to where she was, cupping her cheek as his other hand moved to her waist and pulled her towards him. 

 

“Bl- wh—“ is all she got out before he was virtually devouring her lips, his tongue immediately going into her mouth and stroking at hers. She moaned low in her throat and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing up on her tiptoes to have better access to his lips. He grasped under her thighs and pulled, setting her off balance and forcing her legs to wrap around his waist. She practically climbed his body like a tree then, letting out breathy half moans as she tangled her fingers in his hair. 

 

He walked them over to the small kitchenette, still devouring her lips (she was trying to meet him passion for passion but she’d never seen anyone this desperate for her and at times all she could do was to hold on). Without a word or further preamble, he set her on the high kitchen counter, pausing for breath to suck at her neck. She threw her head back, his hand on the back of her head the only thing keeping her from banging her head on the cabinet door. 

 

“Can I taste you? Please let me lick you until you tremble, please please please,” Blake’s voice was wrecked and desperate, and he punctuated every couple of words with kisses to her neck or to her lips, desperate movements of lips that seemed unsure of where they wanted to land. Gwen gasped and then whined, a needy thing, and her hips twitched as she felt wetness virtually flood to her core.

 

“ God yes, fuck please,” She whined, spreading her legs more, and Blake followed her words up with a hard frantic kiss to her lips before he was on his knees, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them off of her after removing her shoes. She couldn’t do anything but grip the edges of the counter with white knuckled hands (because she couldn’t even believe she was doing this, but that whiplash ocean sea feeling was taking over again and she was so overcome by him and for once she just wanted to live). He nuzzled at her stomach under her shirt, which he left on, and he nibbled at a hip bone before slowly pulling her underwear off along with her jeans. 

 

“ Your pussy’s gonna taste so good, “ Blake groaned, nosing into her core and inhaling deeply. She gasped, her back and head arching against the cabinet. He licked on the edges of her lips, then, soft gentle things that made her wriggle a little on the granite surface. Before long, though, he was licking and sucking at her clit in a way that made her moan loudly, having to slap a hand over her mouth to stop her noises. 

 

Within five minutes, he had two of his fingers in her and was licking at her clit in rhythm with his hand and she was almost constantly whimpering and gasping, her hips thrusting up and down on the counter. One of his hands on her hip kept her from falling, and one of her hands was pulling at his hair as she tried to ride his face. 

 

“God you’re so sweet,” Blake said into her core, his voice wrecked again. Gwen gasped, letting out a high pitched whimper and tightening her hand in his hair. “ Come for me, beautiful, “ He said then, curling his fingers in her and licking back and forth along her clit. His face was damp with her juices, but all she could think about was the mind numbing black out level pleasure suffusing through her frame as she arched almost entirely off of the counter and let out a loud groan before coming; feeling herself clench around his fingers. 

 

As the aftershocks sped through her like electricity through a wire, he kissed messily at her pussy before gently and slowly pulling out his fingers, licking at them while looking up at her like they were the sweetest tasting things imaginable. She was left gaping, staring down at him, her hair a frizzy mess, her face sweaty, with that whiplash ocean sea feeling coursing through her. It was coursing through her, and there was no doubt about the fact that she had whiplash, but she couldn’t get enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are so appreciated! Next chapter, prepare for the gap between Knockouts and Live shows, where Blake misses Gwen, Gwen misses Blake, and there's a little angst.


	15. Final Author's Note.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Author's Note.

Hello All,

First of all, thank you so much for all of your comments throughout this story. It has meant more to me than a lot to know that all of you took the time to read and comment on my little story. I never thought that my writing would get this much love; it's amazing! Thank you.

However, I'm writing this final authors' note to say that this story will no longer be updated. I said I would never abandon this story, and I really meant it, but a few life events have left me with no other choice, unfortunately. First, I recently took a job that takes up a ton of my time, and one that leaves me exhausted at the end of the day. This is not a bad thing, because I like the job and am having fun, but I'm just left with no time to write or write well. So, this has been the reason for the length of the time between updates, and part of the reason that i'm abandoning this. Second, i'm just going to come out and say it, I ended up getting into a serious relationship as a result of my writing. He was a wonderful presence in my life for a long time, and he inspired a lot of what I was writing about. This morning, however, we both decided that it wasn't going to work out. His presence is so indelibly tied to this story and my writing in general, that I have a hard time continuing now that he's no longer in my life. 

Thank you again, everyone for all of your comments. If someone would like to continue this story, please feel free, just reference my name. And let me know how it's going, i'd love to read it. 

Thank you everyone,

Jess (Another Day In History)

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and tell me what you think! And keep the story ideas coming; I will get to them!


End file.
